Pray You Catch Me
by yellowshiningstars
Summary: Newlyweds Charles and Molly James find themselves unexpectedly on tour together fighting terrorists in Iraq. However, it turns out to be a tour that threatens to tear them apart for good in a world that is dangerous, terrorising and cruel. Will our favourite couple find themselves again or will tragedy force them apart forever? Inspired by 'Lemonade'.
1. Intuition

**INTUITION**

* * *

 _I tried to make a home out of you_

* * *

"Well, Mrs. James, did you have a good day?"

Charles James turned to face his wife of ten hours. With all of the chaos and general business of the day, the newlyweds had finally escaped from the chorus of 'congratulations' the lips of their friends and family had been singing and were now in the comfort of their bedroom, marking their first night together in their new house.

Not that Molly Dawes and Charles were strangers to living together; they had inhabited his bachelor pad he had purchased for use in Bath when he was not required in his usual barracks. However, in order to make things official in the eyes of his ever so traditional mother, he and his new wife had bought themselves a lovely home on the outskirts of the city, meaning it was familiar for Charles and not too isolated for Molly's taste. As a whole, it was their dream home and one they could imagine themselves raising a family in together someday, army permitting.

For the first time that day, Charles felt like he was looking at his wife properly and was captivated by her beauty. Sitting on the edge of their king sized bed in her wedding dress, the dress's train lay like waves on the floor and, trailing his eyes up her body, the lace highlighted her curves perfectly while the full-length sleeves meant that a respectable amount of cleavage had been on offer for the guests. However, what enchanted him most was the shy smile on the face of his bride as she looked at herself in the mirror on the wall opposite their bed.

"I loved it, I really did," she giggled as her new husband sat himself down beside her, automatically pulling her closer to him in his arms and kissing the top of her head. "And I love you."

Her words were not without a look in her eyes that Charles had been trying to place since he had first cast eyes on her walking up the aisle in the Church his mother had insisted they decorate with leaves and candles. To their guests Molly appeared to be a typical bride - incredibly excited if not partly nervous - but to him, he could read her the way no other person ever could. She was insecure.

The corners of his mouth raised up in a smile and he moved his hands round her waist, meaning he was close enough that Molly could feel his breath on her face. "You look beautiful, my love." Her hands began to slowly remove his tie as he dotted her face with soft kisses, leaving a trail of goosebumps through her dress onto her body.

"You don't look so bad yourself!" She grinned, feeling the movements of his chest as he chuckled deeply and quietly to himself.

As his hands worked their way down the lace on the back of her dress, Molly looked up and was met with dark chocolate brown eyes that were looking at her with such an intensity and longing, most likely lust, that had left her stomach with an assembly of butterflies when the very same eyes had looked up at her while removing her garter in front of their reception of guests.

As he carefully untied the lace on the back of the dress that had at various points that day served as the catalyst for an embarrassing feeling in his groin, his hand ran up the side of her thigh slowly as he murmured, "I want to show you how beautiful you are, Molly James."

Before she knew it, he had pushed her down fully onto the bed without the safety of her wedding dress to stop her feeling exposed. She had been excited, and somewhat majorly embarrassed, at the skimpy yet classic white wedding lingerie she had been waiting to showcase under her dress and now, drinking in the sight of his wife in her lace corset-like nightwear, Charles was moaning into her mouth as their kiss deepened and the hardness he could feel between them grew.

"You. Are. So. Beautiful." He murmured with every kiss as his lips and hands explored the body he had come to know so well, nibbling at the soft skin behind her ear to make her catch her breath. "Trust me." He whispered as he met her green eyes before kissing his way down her body and slowly removing the lace material that made up her knickers with his teeth.

* * *

 _Where do you go when you go quiet?_

* * *

A while later, both satisfied, Charles and Molly were lying in the dark in each other's arms. He planted lazy kisses all over Molly's head as she lay with her hand on his chest, moving her specially manicured fingers softly along the defined muscles of his chest.

"This is mad, ain't it?" She broke the comfortable silence, her voice quiet as she searched his face - he hadn't spoke a word since his hoarse murmurs of love and admiration as they brought each other to their own personal ecstasy.

"In what way?" He had an amused expression on his face while he rubbed his thumb up and down her tanned arm.

"You can't get rid of me now, can you? Who'd a' thought it?" She giggled and wore her trademark mischievous look masked by a hint of innocence. However, this quickly changed to doubt when Charles simply smiled. "I mean, if you really want to you can like, but I really wouldn't want you to... an' maybe when we 'av kids n that we'll get proper cranky with each other like my old man did with my mam and then I wouldn't blame you like but..."

She was broken off by a tender kiss onto her lips, lips that were somewhat sore from the intensity of their previous session coupled with the slight discomfort of his new light layer of stubble that had gradually appeared throughout the long day. "Molly, shut the fuck up." He laughed heartily and, seeing her self-doubt, softened his voice and moved his body so he was above her.

"I could never get tired of you, sweetheart. That's why I put a ring on your finger!" He lifted up her left hand and brushed his lips along her knuckles gently.

"But am just sayin' like I wouldn't blame you or nought but I wouldn't want you to go."

"I'm not going anywhere," He moved up her body again and began to nibble on the sensitive spot of her neck, a place that Molly was sure he had already marked earlier in the night. "I love you."

"I love you too, bossman." Once again she was breathless as his hands caressed her naked body. Realising what her husband's intentions were, she half-heartedly whispered, "We have to get up early in the mornin' for our flight!"

Charles groaned against her neck before she felt him smile against her. Glancing up, he had a gloriously wicked look in his eyes.

"Who cares, you're my wife now aren't you?"

Molly laughed and surrendered to her second experience of paradise that night, involuntarily leaning her body into the warm touch of his wandering hands.

* * *

 _What luck? What a fucking curse._

* * *

Marital bliss would not be a term to define their first two months of marriage as, one week after returning from their honeymoon in Hawaii, Charles had been deployed to Iraq on an operation carrying the hypothesis of preventing the expansion of ISIS' territory and reclaiming what was now theirs. Now a Major in the British Army having been promoted in a bid to remove any thoughts he had to withdraw his commission following his fatal last tour in Afghanistan with Two Section, Charles was now responsible for the officers of the sections under his command in Iraq and was given specific instructions to keep an eye on Three Section, a bunch of lads on their first tour outside of the United Kingdom. It hadn't skipped Molly's attention that he had referred to his new section as a 'bunch of cockwombles' who wouldn't know England from Scotland on a map.

Two painful and lonely weeks after Charles was deployed, Lance Corporal Molly James was informed that herself and Two Section would also be deployed to Iraq on a similar mission. However, their base was to be twenty miles north from that of Major James.

Just thirty minutes before landing and after a lengthy transaction with his superiors, Captain Kinders made an announcement to the excited section of soldiers he had come to love as family. "TWO SECTION! Listen up! Change of plan. Due to unforeseen circumstances, the base we were to operate from has been evacuated and declared unsafe after it was breeched by insurgents overnight, resulting in the loss of 10 soldiers. I'm afraid the flight will be slightly longer, lads!" His announcement was met by a groan from Two Section, bored out of their minds from being on the aircraft. As reliably told by Fingers, it was confirmed to Molly that there was only so many games of 'Eye Spy' the lads could play in an environment that had no decoration, lacked adequate windows and had been inhabited by the same restless group of soldiers since it had left Brize Norton what seemed like days ago.

"Where we goin' now, Kinders?" Shouted Mansfield Mike, chucking his book down in frustration.

"Camp Palisade."

Molly knew those words. Camp Palisade. Surely they wouldn't be stationed in the same base as Charles ...? For one, it's against regulations for a married couple to be together on tour. Before she knew it, Kinders had sat down beside her and was requesting her attention.

Her conversation with him was relatively short, with Molly sensing and somewhat finding humour his awkward discomfort at explaining to her the finer details of marital relationships in the army. Having reassured Kinders that she would not share a bed with her husband for the duration of the operation and, no, she would not shag him for that matter, Kinders had nodded and walked back to his seat at the head of the aircraft container, putting his headphones in and ignoring the familiar banter of Two Section.

However, Molly soon had her own comforting feeling of familiarity. Who the fuck did the army think she was? Of course she was professional, even if she would be lying if she said she had portrayed only complete respect for authority, but the thought of seeing her husband after months apart had created a nervous excitement that Molly could only place back to just before Dave had walked her up the aisle to hold hands with Major Charles James and begin their new lives together, a life she had so desperately craved in the time since his departure to his own definition of hell.

Over an hour later, after their induction to Camp Palisade and saluting their superiors, Two Section had been dismissed to find their sleeping area but Molly was on a completely different mission.

Having found the quarters seemingly quicker than the likes of Nude Nut and Co, she sped up her pace in search of her true home.

Running past various people, some of which she recognised from her training and her previous tour in Afghanistan, it wasn't long before she stopped in her tracks and caught her breath, a feeling that was becoming a habit every time she saw her husband.

Standing fifty metres from her was a tall dark handsome man, his combats fitting him perfectly as he stood with his hands on his hips with a serious expression on his face as he talked to a female soldier, a woman Molly assumed was getting a bollocking for whatever 'fuckmuppetry' Three Section had been up to in the opening hours of that day. Questioning whether she had misjudged her own actions, she soon felt a pair of chocolate brown eyes looking into hers over the sand track she had planted her boots into.

Charles James' face broke into a massive grin which was matched by the expression on his wife's face before he dismissed the soldier he was talking to, telling her that he'd catch her later. Without looking at who was watching around them in the busy camp, they began to run to each other before Molly arrived in his arms.

He picked the small frame of his wife up in his arms and span her round, the unmistakable giggle coming from his wife's gleeful grin not being missed on him and reminding him of home. Their home.

Feeling dizzy, he slid her slowly down his body and pulled her into the tent beside them before kissing her tenderly in his embrace, longing to make up for the time they had spent apart.

"Hello you." He breathed, his hands cupping her face with an expression that reminded Molly of a few years ago when he had comforted her in an empty hospital room after Sohail had died, a period in her life that seemed so very long ago.

As he moved his lips back to hers, Charles suddenly felt something he had been missing since he had arrived in Iraq. Although he knew how dangerous this operation was - he had just received intelligence that revealed to him just how terrorising the next few months would be - he felt comfort in knowing one thing.

Forget the rules and regulations that he knew would ensure that Molly and him would be kept apart as much as possible, and rightly so given the seriousness of their jobs, he was sure that her presence would still be an incredible blanket of safety to him emotionally as he prepared to face his demons of being back in situations that had almost cost him his life, a battle he had not shared with anyone around him. However, Molly was here.

And they'd face their troubles together.

* * *

 **Hey Guys!**

 **Guess who has caught the writing bug again? After months of school and exams (I just finished my first year of A Levels!), I've missed being able to write and create stories inside my head that I can share with you all. This is a story inspired by a short movie called Lemonade by Beyoncé. However, you don't need to be a fan of hers or have watched it in order for this story to be read and make sense. In short, it is a story of sadness, salvation and hope that can be interpreted and related to in so many ways. In this interpretation, the solidness of the foundations of the relationship between our two favourite characters is tested in the most tragic way and, although unrealistic and certainly against regulations, they have to fight to prove their strength.**

 **If you have read my other stories/one-shots, you will know that I write fluff. However, I am now going to push myself to write something full of angst and uncertainty - wish me luck! I sincerely hope you enjoy this and join me for a journey that, in terms of the film, means so much to me personally in a whole other different way.**

 **I love you all and thank you for any support you have given me previously and continue to do so. I hope you can give me another chance and welcome me back into the Our Girl community that I love and missed so terribly much.**

 **If you enjoy this, please leave a review so I know whether to continue. I have every chapter planned already and I hope you all stick around to read it and, hopefully, enjoy it!**

 **Love always,**

 **Sarah x**


	2. Pray You Catch Me

**PRAY YOU CATCH ME**

* * *

 _Nothing else ever seems to hurt like the smile on your face when it's only in my memory..._

* * *

The regulation single bed in the centre of Major James' quarters squeaked ever so delicately as he moved himself up against the headboard, keeping his arms firmly around the body of his wife. The soft glow of the moon lit up the room softly through the blinds, highlighting the emotions that were all over Molly's face as she ran his hand over his chest, absentmindedly playing with the dark hair that dotted his toned chest.

Life in Camp Palisade had, a month after Two Section's arrival, quickly turned into the routine that the soldiers craved so much when they were not on tour. However, Molly Dawes and Charles James had simultaneously formed their own.

Despite his adoration and admiration for the rules and regulations that had been drilled into him since his days at Sandhurst, he was victim once again to his wife's charm and magnetism as he welcomed her into his cramped room every night after the majority of the camp had gone to bed and woke her up in time to get back to her pit in the morning to avoid suspicion. It wasn't ideal, nor was it exactly luxurious to squeeze a man who was already too tall for the single bed without the presence of the small sleeping frame in his hold that he knew better than he knew himself, these were their only moments truly alone and they both cherished every minute.

But tonight was different.

As their mission was in its early stages in Iraq due to the delays in the negotiations happened between the Western coalition planning to fight more forcefully than ever against ISIS, it was very rare that Two Section and Three Section were on patrol or on operations together unless they had received intelligence that there was a threat deemed to be credible. For that reason, night patrols had become a waiting game for the couple as they waited somewhat impatiently for their other half to come back to them safely.

Molly had heard talk throughout the Thursday that Three Section would be launching a night-time operation up in the mountains beyond the compound to investigate an alleged ISIS stronghold rumoured to house a substantial collection of weapons and supplies for their enemy's use against the coalition's forces. However, if insurgents were spotted in the area, Major James and Lieutenant Colonel Beck had made it clear that they were to retreat under the cover of darkness and launch a daylight attack with the backup of other sections the following day. In short, it was a simple operation and Charles had promised her that he wouldn't be long and that he'd be in bed waiting for her as always.

As she made her way to his room at her usual hour, Molly was struck with how quiet the camp seemed to be - even if it was past midnight. Following an operation it was not uncommon to see the victorious section cleaning their kit or getting ready to hit their pit following a draining evening, both mentally and physically. Suddenly, Molly started to feel the long-forgotten ache of panic surge through her body as she tried to think of a logical reason for the delayed return of Three Section, an anxiety only made worse when she opened the door to find Charles' quarters unslept in.

Feeling the tears forming at the back of her eyes no matter how hard she blinked, Molly quietly shut the door to the room and sat herself down on the end of the bed, allowing the thick tears to cloud her vision as she surrendered to a feeling she couldn't name or explain.

* * *

 _... It don't hit me quite the same, maybe it's a cause for concern_

* * *

She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting there when she heard his voice outside in the dark camp getting louder as his footsteps approached.

"The men are shattered; it was a long night. I think we'd be better calling it a night and debriefing in the morning, let them get some sleep." It was then that she realised he was not alone.

"That'll do, James. Debrief at 0600 hours?"

Shit. It was Beck.

It seemed that her silent prayers that he wouldn't come in were answered when she heard Beck answer his own question.

"I'll see you then Charles. Well done tonight, by the way. Excellent work." She heard what she interpreted to be a masculine pat on the back as the other set of footsteps retreated and Charles opened the door, catching his breath when the moonlight illuminated the room to reveal Molly's tiny figure curled up at the end of his bed.

"Molly!" He immediately closed to door and set his kit down.

"Charles! Oh my God, I thought-" The tears she had spent over two hours trying to control were already bursting through her eyes as she jumped up and hugged him, feeling him tense at the sudden contact and then relax and pull her closer against him, resting his hands comfortably around her waist.

"Hey, shh, it's okay love," He whispered, planting kisses on her forehead as she began to cry again. "It's alright - I came back, Molls. I told you I always would."

Her voice was small and hoarse. "I was so scared Charlie, Jackie told me that you'd radioed in to say that one of you was shot an' that you was requestin' backup an' it brought it all back and you weren't here..." Another sob escaped her lips as he tried to wipe her tears away with his thumb, lifting her up gently and sitting himself down on the end of the bed with his wife in his lap.

"Shh, Molls, it's okay. I'm alright, see? Don't you ever worry, sweetheart. I'll always come back to you." His face softened into that smile he knew filled her tummy with butterflies and made her blush like a schoolgirl and she tried to smile back, giggling through her tears.

Except, this time, the butterflies didn't last as long and the anxiety she had been feeling only five minutes ago came crawling back into her conscious, filling her with doubts and fears that she could never confide in with anyone, not even the man she loved most in this world. The fear that they would lose each other to a war that had already claimed so many.

Instead, she did her best to reassure him that she was okay and was just being a stupid mare as she put it, pretending to settle with his wink and promise of making it up to her for almost giving her a Julius Caesar and they snuggled up under the thin duvet together, both aware that their time together was now considerably short.

* * *

 _My lonely ear pressed against the walls of your world_

* * *

"Hey sleepyhead." He murmured, glancing at the red numbers to his right that read 04:42 and laughing as he heard a soft groan from him companion who had slept in his arms all night.

"Hey," she whispered back, stretching out sleepily against his body and pulling the duvet up further to keep warm. No one had told her that the ISIS buggers were gonna make her fight from a compound that was absolutely taters in the small hours of the morning. "I'm sorry about last night, Charlie. I don't know why I was panicking so much."

"Shh, don't worry. I love you and I would have been worried too." His voice was sleepy and deep as was characteristic of the usually composed man that the army got to experience, his more vulnerable side a secret only she really knew or understood. Sitting up, he made sure that his lower half was still covered by the duvet as he watched Molly fail in her attempts to wake up properly. "Have you ever read 'To Kill A Mockingbird' Molly?"

"You what?" She screwed her nose up as she tried to think, her memory hazy with the inhuman hour. "Nah mate, already told you that reading weren't for me!"

Charles lifted his finger up to scratch his stubble as he thought, "Watched the film perhaps?"

Molly was more awake now. "Aw wait yeah I might'a done, it has that really good looking bloke in it that me Nan fancies! Ah, what's his name? Peck?"

"Have you always had a thing for older men, Molly Dawes?" Charles shook his head and laughed, leaning his head back against the headboard.

"Got daddy issues, me." She giggled before it turned into full on laughter at Charles's confused expression.

"What the fuck are daddy issues?" Amusement glistened in his dark chocolate eyes.

"Never mind." She shook her head sleepily.

"Anyway," he cleared his throat. "What I was trying to tell you was that he very last line of Harper Lee's novel is this: '[Atticus] would be there all night,and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning.'"

"That's nice?" She rolled her eyes humorously and laughed again. "You really are a posh tosser aren't you?"

Shaking his head in what was a common occurrence when having a conversation with his wife, he bit his bottom lip and suppressed the urge to join in her laughter. Suddenly, his tone softened.

"It means, Molly, that you never have to worry because I will always come back to you and protect you and love you." He took her hand in his and intertwined her tiny and soft feminine fingers in his much larger and rougher hands before kissing her gently on the lips. "Now piss off, Dawesy, and go get some bloody kip."

She shook her bum and winked at him mischievously as she left his room, leaving his rolling his tongue around his mouth as he tried as always to figure out his insatiable wife. Surrendering to chuckling to himself, he pulled on his kit and went to get himself ready for the day.

* * *

 _You can taste the dishonesty, it's all over your breath_

* * *

Hours turned into days and days turned into weeks at Camp Palisade while the early tour dick waving quickly became boredom.

They had successfully prevented ISIS from gaining any territory within their patrol area but other than that, progress was relatively slow overall as they waited on the higher command to make any concrete decisions about their strategy. As Molly had repeatedly moaned to Charles, the whole thing was a bleeding waste of time.

As a consequence of the Major's daily meetings with his superiors regarding the day to day activities of Camp Palisade, time together was becoming very rare and it was more often than not that Molly would arrive at his quarters to find him either not there or fast asleep and she would quietly retreat to her own tent, acting like she had been getting water if her bumped into anybody she knew.

It's not that she was wasn't expecting their lack of time together - they were both strictly professional and only spoke to each other in public when it was appropriate - but seeing the tall dark frame of her husband walking around the camp and not being able to touch him or really even talk to him was heartbreaking. She knew she was being ridiculous as she was one of the lucky ones to be so close to her other half and see for herself that he was safe but that didn't mean she wasn't lonely in her own world - and in her own way. Even knowing that she could not confide in anyone about it as they couldn't relate left her feeling even more isolated than before.

Keeping with tradition, Mansfield had decided that today was the perfect day to hold the monthly Two Section Olympics as a result of their lack of work. Molly and Jackie sat on one of the mess tent's benches as they watched the lads set up the obstacle course, laughing every time Nude Nut got tangled up in the volleyball net and had to be rescued by a swearing Brains.

Leaning back against the table, the girls soaked up the Iraqi sun's rays, trying to block out the shouts of Dangleberries who was 'delegating' tasks to his mates.

"Bloody cockwombles can't even set up a bleedin' obstacle course that the little bleeders at home can make in the living room!" Molly complained under her breath, much to the delight of Jackie's laughter.

Molly had been absolutely delighted when she discovered that Jackie was also at Camp Palisade. Having learned from their mistakes in Afghan, the British government had decided to include a small but complete medical centre at each base in Iraq to try and cut the numbers at their main military base's medical facilities, meaning that Jackie was now one of the camp's resident nurses.

"Who is that?" Molly followed Jackie's curious tone as their laughter died down and spotted Charles beyond Two Section's makeshift Olympic stadium. He was frowning and in animated discussion with the same tall blonde girl Molly had saw him talking to all those weeks ago when she arrived.

"I'm not sure, they're together a lot though." Jackie turned to look at her friend, noticing the flash of sadness that appeared in her eyes which she quickly masqueraded by trying to revert to her previously amused expression. "Dunno what she is though, might be a medic or summit?"

Jackie made a noise of agreement but struggled to recall seeing her in the medical centre before. "I dunno, Molls, but I wouldn't worry about it." The blonde girl was now laughing happily, her glossy locks shining in the midday sun. "Remember, don't go looking for trouble, trouble!" She winked and then stood up, brushing the sand off of her that Brains had accidentally shovelled their way when he was digging it up to make a starting point. "My shift starts soon, I'll catch ya later Molls!" She jogged off, grinning as she went.

Molly sat in silence watching her husband, recognising every expression on his face as his head went back in laughter before quickly becoming serious, his deep frown lines becoming noticeable as he listened intently to whatever the girl was saying. Molly didn't even have to see her face to know that she was absolutely beautiful, envying the tanned skin of her toned legs that she had on show in her regulation PT kit.

A few minutes later, she could make out Charles saying 'I'll catch you later' while he patted her on the arm and he looked up, meeting Molly's eyes. Those chocolate brown features she loved so much lit up as he smiled and waved at her once before he turned on his heels and walked towards the Officer's mess tent, turning before Molly even had the chance to respond.

'Don't go looking for trouble, trouble.' She said quietly to herself before getting up to go to the bogs, needing urgently to splash cold water over her face from the boiling heat.

* * *

"What's going on with you and Major James?" Molly's ears pricked up at the mention of her husband's name as she sat alone in the tent eating her supper. Glancing over her shoulder, she could make out two girls sitting opposite each other at the table behind her talking in quiet voices. One was brunette, a similar shade to Molly's, and the other was blonde. Molly immediately knew who she was before she had even opened her mouth. Staying quiet, Molly listened.

"What do you mean?" The blonde sounded confused.

"Oh fuck off, Rachel! Anytime I see you when I'm not on duty you're with him!" The other girl laughed. "Gettin' cosy with the big boys are you?"

"Shut up!" Came a giggle in response. "It's not like that, he asked for my help with something."

"I'm sure he did. Not like they can get a lot of action out here!"

"No, it isn't like that! That is disgusting!" Their laughter continued until Rachel lowered her voice. "I'm pretty sure he's married anyway, he's never said but I heard someone in Three Section say that. Think she's in the army too but I don't know what she does."

"Well then, they're obviously never together so he must be needing entertainment elsewhere. Don't be stupid, Rachel, don't get involved with him."

"Why won't you believe me, Lauren? It's not like that! Anyway, he's too old."

"You'd fuck him though if he asked, wouldn't you? I mean he's bloody gorgeous." She roared with laughter.

Molly immediately got up from her seat and stormed her way out of the tent without leaving her tray back, her eyes fuming with tears and her fists clenched as she walked laps around the camp, trying desperately to calm down the insecurity that had been settling in her stomach since she had arrived here. She knew Charles would never do anything like that; he loved her. But there was still something that didn't sit right with Molly and his secrecy and distance only served to enhance that, even without listening to the cosy girly chat of the two girls in the mess tent.

* * *

 _I'm praying you catch me listening, I'm praying to catch you whispering, I'm praying you catch me_

* * *

"Hello you," Charles found Molly sitting on the roof of the shitter after looking for her for twenty minutes. "Thought you'd done a runner!" He sat down beside her and wrapped his arm around her side, pulling her closer to him. Her long hair was slightly wavy from letting it dry naturally in the sun and her tanned shoulders were exposed in a black vest top, a cooler substitute for her trademark West Ham top.

"Yeah, ran all the way to the bogs." She tried to laugh, entirely focused on watching the stars above her. She could never quite get over their beauty, whether from the FOB in Afghan or in Iraq.

"Everything okay?" Charles frowned, his worry deepening when his wife nodded her head, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Her voice was quiet and Charles could detect a hint of defensiveness in her voice. Clearing her throat, she turned to face him. "How was your day? Did you get up to much?"

"It was okay, thank you. Tiring. I've been in meetings all day, fucking government can't decide what the bloody hell it is that they want us to do!" He laughed quietly to himself, unaware of the fact that Molly's stomach was beginning to drop as she knew that was a lie. She had watched him earlier as he walked with his new shadow. "How was yours?"

"Shit, couldn't really sleep last night. Too much goin' on in me nut I think." Charles planted a tender kiss on her bare shoulder affectionately, knowing that Molly would only talk about it when she was ready and if she wanted to.

"Sorry I wasn't in my room last night, I had too much paperwork to do." She didn't even need proof to guess that his excuse wasn't true either. "Do you want to sleep with me tonight?" He raised his eyebrow humorously, both knowing full well that he didn't mean what it sounded like - they were not completely blind to the regulations.

"Nah, I can't sorry. Promised Jackie I'd help out durin' the mornin' shift tomorrow cause they're understaffed, not with the operation you're on tomorrow and all. Hope it goes well." She could see from his expression he was disappointed - he was just as sad at their lack of time together in recent weeks as she was, even if he didn't make it as clear as she did - but he nodded in understanding. Leaning over, Molly kissed him lightly on the lips as an apology and held her lips there for a second, pulling away before he could deepen their kiss.

"Goodnight, Charles." She squeezed the hand she couldn't remember starting to hold and made her way off the roof, leaving him sitting there alone to look up at the stars.

Hitting her pit, tears immediately were running down Molly's face into her pillow as she faced away from the lads of Two Section who were already fast asleep. Emptiness really was a fucking curse.

* * *

 _What are you doing, my love?_

* * *

 **Hi everyone! I'm so overwhelmed at the support you all had for the first chapter of this - I was so nervous about publishing it! I've never had that many reviews on one chapter before and I cannot thank you enough - I love you guys. I'm so sorry for the delay; this chapter is so crucial and I had to make it believable and I'm not sure that I have :( However, at least now I can write the rest of the story which hopefully will be much better (and not as long!) and I will not procrastinate as much. Thank you again for your love and please feel free to leave a review! Each and every one brings a massive smile to my face and boosts my confidence significantly, giving me the strength to write even when I feel like it isn't good enough. Love you all xx**

 **P.S. for those of you who are worried about the HEA - my favourite quote is this, 'Everything is okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end' ;) xxx**


	3. Denial (Hold Up)

**DENIAL (HOLD UP)**

* * *

 _I tried to change, close my mouth more; tried to be soft, prettier, less ... awake_

* * *

"Everything okay, Dawes?" Molly looked up to see the authoritative frame of Kinders, now Captain, with a confused frown on his face.

"The nuts, Eggy." She tried to smile but her captain noticed that it didn't quite reach her large green eyes as she cast her glance back down to the sand beneath her feet. She was sat on a bench in the outdoor meeting area.

"Are you sure? The lads said they was concerned. As your commanding officer I have a duty-"

Molly put Kinders out of his misery by cutting off his awkward tone as he lowered his voice. She knew that he was being genuine in his concerns and she was glad that Two Section were looking out for her but this was not something she could or would talk about. It's not like she wanted to.

She wasn't stupid. She knew she looked like shit. Looking at herself in the mirror this morning, Molly was aware that the dark circles under her eyes and her pale complexion despite the sun of Iraq was indicative of the troubles she had felt over the last few days. Watching herself in the small mirror above the sink as she plaited her hair, she understood that her sickly appearance would raise eyebrows and so she hastily applied some non-regulation make up powder to conceal her tiredness before the other women of Camp Palisade invaded the bathroom when they got out of their pits to try and trade her makeup for whatever delights the poor buggers left behind at home to wait for their return had sent them in the post.

The camp was noticeably quiet at this hour, an advantage Molly and Major James had previously availed of when she would sneak out of his quarters at this time. However, she hadn't really noticed him walking around much since their conversation on the top of the shitter and they had only exchanged casual words when she did. More notably, she hadn't spotted Rachel either making her rounds in the camp at all and wondered what exactly her role was as she and Jackie had failed to find out.

All Molly had heard was that Rachel, who was older than Molly, was a shy girl; she was pretty, smart and masked any insecurity with a quiet confidence. She was tall with long, tanned legs that Molly had envied ever since she first cast an eye on her all those weeks ago. To put it simply, she was everything Molly didn't consider herself to be.

"Kinders, mate, don't worry about it. I'm fine, honestly! Don't be listening to those fuckmuppets over there, they couldn't even tell you their nose from their asshole." She struggled to channel the spirit of the Old Molly Dawes, a young woman who could put you in your place and shut any man up in seconds. All Molly now felt was exhaustion - both physically and mentally. She tried once again to grin at her superior, knowing full well that he wouldn't even dare warn her about swearing at someone of a higher command. He knew better than that.

"Well, if you're sure."

"At ease, lads!" The call of a familiar deep voice cut Kinders off from pressing the issue any further as he moved his attention from the reluctant figure of Molly to that of his superior, Major James.

"Oi, oi Bossman!" Mansfield Mike yelled with delight, his excitement clear. "Bet you've been missin' some Ginja Ninja in your life now that you're frolicking with Three Section!"

"Bet he hasn't been missin' you at all, Mansfield, not since he had to explain to you in Afghan that you wasn't related to Prince Harry just cause you're ginger!" The familiar chorus of laughter from Two Section erupted around Molly as she watched with amusement, for once not bothering to shut down the 'proper rinsed' comments coming from Nude Nut and Dangleberries behind her.

"That's enough!" Charles tried to keep a stern face but failed, letting his old section see him laugh deeply at the nostalgia he was feeling. Although he loved being a Major and found Three Section to be just as challenging as a group of men, there was no doubt in his mind that working with Two Section again was like coming home and it was not just because his wife was there.

"Why you here, Boss? Keepin' an eye on the missus? Nude Nut here is feeling a little down since his dumped him. He needs some lady lovin' in his life!" Fingers questioned, rubbing Nude Nut's bald head in his hands affectionately as he did so.

"State of you lot I don't think he's worried!" Molly tried to shake off the feeling of isolation she had trapped herself in and her stomach warmed at the laughter around her. However, she didn't meet Charles's eye as he smiled at her response, noting that her sarcasm didn't carry its usual mischievous tone and instead sounded forced.

"Thanks for that, Fingers. I'll keep the situation under review," he winked at Molly. "But I'm actually here to deliver the briefing for our next patrol. I'm sure you remember the compound Three Section patrolled recently before coming under gunfire?"

Groans could be heard from the meeting area.

"We've received reliable intelligence that the insurgents who use the outbuilding to store their weapons will be dropping off a truck of explosives around 0600 hours tomorrow morning. Our job is to intercept the drop off and gain possession of the compound."

"How the hell are we gonna do that? Poor Leo The Lion from Three Section almost lost a leg last time you tried this, sir." Brains was the spokesperson of the section around him, their banter replaced by their serious faces. Noises of agreement could be heard from the team of concerned men.

"It will be tough, Brains, as I'm sure you are all aware and myself and Major James here have thought long and hard about the best and safest way to secure this vital point. Time to listen up, boys." Kinders took over as Charles began to uncover the map he had pinned to the whiteboard behind him.

Settling into her seat, Molly began to focus.

'Game's on, Molly Dawes.' She thought to herself as she paid attention. This was war and it was serious.

* * *

 _But still inside me coiled deep was the need to know..._

* * *

"Our meeting time is 0300 hours." Charles James ended the mission briefing with a nod and watched as the men began to leave for lunch. Taking advantage of his long stride, he managed to catch up with his wife before she headed off and put his arm softly around her waist.

"Hello you." He smiled warmly, looking around him to check that no one was watching them. Satisfied by the lack of audience, he began to guide her quickly towards his quarters, not speaking a word until they were safely inside.

Closing the door, Charles pinned her against the wall and planted his lips on hers, kissing her slowly before biting his bottom lip as he waited to see if she would give him access. All insecurities and worries on Molly's part were soon temporarily forgotten as she surrendered to his touch, deepening the kiss and moaning into his mouth as his hands found their way around her body while hers were pulling at the dark brown curls on the back of his neck.

"Ain't I supposed to salute you or somethin' first, boss?" She murmured as he rested his forehead against hers when the kiss came to an end.

"I think I can make an exception for you, Dawesy." He winked, chuckling at her feigned innocence. "Anyway, I actually want to speak to you."

Charles slowly released Molly from his grip and walked towards the desk, picking up a pencil and beginning to twirl it around in his fingers.

"Is everything okay?" Molly was suddenly concerned at the change in expression. The frown lines had reappeared and she noticed just how shattered he looked.

"I wanted to ask you the same question." He indicated the sofa with his hand and they sat down beside each other on it. Charles was conscious of the distance between them.

"What do you mean?" She wouldn't meet his eye and instead focused on pulling at a loose thread on her combat trousers.

"Kinders told me he was worried about you. All the lads are, apparently."

Molly shrugged. "I already told him, I'm-"

"Fine, yeah, I know you said you're fine." He moved himself closer to her and moved a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But you aren't, are you? You've been avoiding me for days, Molly, and you look exhausted. What is it, my love?"

"Charles-"

"Is it me? Is it the tour? Are you ill?" She visibly grimaced.

Molly could feel the familiar warm lump in her throat as the tears formed at the back of her eyes. Trying to blink them away before Charles could see them, Molly sniffed and shook her head. Needing to put more space between them, Molly stood and walked a few paces to his desk with her back to him.

"Molly, what is it?" He soon had her in his arms and turned her around to face him. Tears spilled out of her eyes at his touch and his automatically placed his warm hand on her cheek and wiped them away with his thumb.

All the times she had imagined this moment in the last few nights when she couldn't sleep, it had never been like this. Looking around his small bedroom, Molly searched for the confidence and courage she had imagined she would have when she asked him this question. Instead, all she felt was sadness and failure. Without even knowing his answer, Molly felt that she had failed as a wife to make him happy and that, beyond anything, left her vulnerable to becoming overpowered by the sadness that had been threatening to invade her for weeks.

The silence soon became painful and her tear-filled eyes soon met the chocolate brown wells that had once made her so happy. Now they were painful. She cleared her throat.

" _Are you cheating?_ " Molly whispered quietly, almost afraid to know his response. " _Are you cheating on me?_ "

* * *

 _What's worse: looking jealous or crazy?_

* * *

Another tear escaped her eye and made it ways down her cheek, this time not removed by the comforting presence of Charles' touch. He had automatically released her from his hold and stepped backwards, searching her eyes frantically as he did so.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Molly swallowed.

"Please just tell me." She pleaded, suddenly feeling small under his stare as his eyes became darker and his body language angry.

"Christ, you're serious. Bloody hell." He shook his head and looked around the room before looking back at her. This time, he was glaring right through her in shock at what his wife had just accused him of. "How the fuck could I cheat on you in the middle of fucking Iraq? And why would I?"

"Charles, please-" she walked over to him and tried to grab his hand, both of he lifted sharply and were now firmly tucked protectively under his armpits in response. "I don't believe that you ever would so please just tell me I'm wrong. Please." Her voice was becoming hoarse as the tears continued to flow.

Snubbing her touch, Charles lowered his voice. "How did you get such a stupid idea in your head, Molly? Is that how little you think of me?"

"Why won't you just say yes or no? Why won't you fight me? Or for me?" She cried.

He ignored her and began to pace up and down the small room, refusing to meet her eye.

"Is that was this is?"

"Is this what?" He was quickly becoming furious.

"Do you regret me? Is this what all this is? You don't want to tell me because that means it's real." She sobbed.

"What's fucking real?" His fists were clenching and unclenching, a stern expression settling on his face.

"That's why you thought I should keep me last name in the army, isn't it? You didn't want some slapper from the East End bein' associated with you, did you?"

"Molly stop!" His temper was threatening to take over.

"Hmm? Or are you just too proud to admit that you fucked up, that you made a mistake marrying me because everyone knows how different we are?"

"MOLLY STOP!"

"Just tell me I'm wrong. Please! Do you regret me?" The words from Molly's mouth were almost inaudible as she was overwhelmed with violent sobs. When she had imagined this conversation she didn't think it would turn to shit so quickly.

He stared at her as it clicked in her mind.

"Oh shit he does!" Wiping her eyes fiercely with the sleeve of her combats, tears blurred Molly's vision as she marched out of his room and headed away from the small trailer as fast as her legs would take her.

"Molly, wait!" Charles no longer sounded angry but desperate. When he caught up with her, she stopped and turned around to face him as he stood imposingly with his hands on his hips, trying to paint a strong and determined look on her face. "I'm sorry."

"Let me explain, please. It isn't what you think." His voice was calmer now and he tried desperately to get her to look at him.

"What is it then?"

"I can't tell you. But I need you to trust me. Please trust me."

The shake in her voice betrayed her strong appearance as she backed away to avoid the hand he was raising to try and hold hers. Her voice was small.

"I don't know if I can."

When she walked away this time Charles didn't follow.

* * *

 _Hold up, they don't love you like I love you. Can't you see there's no other man above you?_

* * *

Molly walked as fast as her legs could take her away from Charles, not once looking back until she was out of sight.

Reaching the safety of the female bogs, Molly was relieved to find them empty as she rushed into a stall and slammed the door shut. Without even realising what was happening, the shitter's seat came closer to her face as she leaned down and emptied the breakfast she had ate this morning, her vision clouded once again by thick tears. Everything felt black.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur as she carried out her duties as Two Section's medic, getting them all ready for their early morning operation tomorrow. But no matter how many blisters she plastered or how much sun cream she gave out, Two Section's woes failed to distract her from the one man who was always on her mind - except this time it was in a different way.

With hindsight, Molly could accept and understand his reaction. Out of no where she had accused him of cheating on her and offered no explanation as to why she had even thought that. Yes, he didn't give her a straightforward answer, but perhaps he would now.

Having calmed down and finished her shift in the med tent, Molly's confidence in both herself and him was somewhat restored as she made her way towards the Officers' village where his quarters and office were.

She wasn't prepared for what she would see outside his door.

Standing back, Molly hid behind a pillar of sandbags and watched.

Charles was standing with his back to Molly and had a concerned look on his face. One hand was running over his stubble as he listened intently to the blonde figure of Rachel who was dressed entirely in black. From the expression on her face, Molly could tell she was telling her husband something very important and appeared almost sad as she recounted whatever the story was.

For the briefest of seconds, Charles touched her arm in a comforting gesture before turning and heading into his office with Rachel closely behind. Her heart sank.

Her quick exit meant that Molly missed Beck and Kinders entering the office less than one minute later.

* * *

 _What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you_

* * *

 **0500 hours**

The walk as One, Two and Three Section patrolled the mountains was quiet with concentration as the seriousness of the operation set in. They were all alert as they scanned the area for the insurgents the army's intelligence had discovered were due to dump weapons at an outbuilding five miles from Camp Palisade.

Major James was in charge of the mission and Molly identified his tall frame near the front of the platoon as they marched in silence, shouting orders every so often and reminding them all to 'stay alert' as Two Section walked towards the end of the pack.

It was more than two hours after they had left the stronghold of the camp that the compound was in sight. With the tone of the operation intensifying even further, Major James ordered everyone to get into position.

One Section were tasked with surrounding the actual compound while Three Section secured the roads leading to it. Two Section were going to be fighting directly opposite the compound in the event of the insurgents opening fire.

It wasn't long before a truck approached from the dusty track.

"Brains, can you identify how many are in the vehicle?" Came Charles's voice through the radio.

"Eyes on the target, boss. I can see six men."

"One has a rifle." Fingers reported from his lookout position wearing binoculars.

"What happens when they go inside the gates, boss?" Molly didn't once take her eyes, or her gun, off the truck.

"We'll stop them on the way out after they have dropped the weapons."

"Major James, target has entered the compound. Waiting for your order to commence Operation Onyx." Captain Harry from One Section could be seen lying on the white building's flat roof, safely out of sight of the insurgents due to its half-walls around the roof's perimeter.

"Hold your fire, Harry," Kinders responded. "James, I'm going to move down a bit. See what's going on."

What a shittin' bad decision that turned out to be.

"KINDERS WATCH OUT!" Molly screamed through the radio as gunfire erupted from nowhere.

Before she knew what was happening, the entire platoon had opened fire at the insurgents who had ran out of the building brandishing numerous guns.

One of them chucked a grenade not ten metres away from where Two Section were generally hidden. When the initial flames of the explosion died down, Molly couldn't see Kinders.

"Sir, Kinders is missing!" The panic in her voice could not be misinterpreted.

"Has anyone got eyes on Kinders?" Nude Nut called.

"I can't fucking see him!" Dangles's response was echoed by each different section.

"Sir, sir, Kinders is down. I see him - he's about fifty metres from here. He's been shot. Let me go to him!" Molly pleaded with Major James who had not once stopped shooting towards the compound.

"Stay where you are. It isn't safe." He shouted over the gunfire.

"Boss, please, this is my job - let me help him. He's losing shitloads of blood."

"Unless you have a fucking death wish, stay here!" Another truck of insurgents had arrived at the compound, several of which had already been shot as they traveled along the sandy road.

"Boss-"

"Dawes, I am your superior and so do what I fucking say!" He roared.

"They shot my leg!" Kinders's weak voice came through the radio.

"Kinders, keep talking mate. Where do you hurt? Are you bleeding?" Molly tried to contain her rage at her husband. She hadn't felt this small since that very first day he had shut down her giggling at his declaration that Two Section were a 'bunch of cockwombles' as they lined up for a photograph. If the situation didn't require her complete attention, the adrenaline would most certainly have been converted to tears by now.

"Four of them are down!" Someone from Three Section reported.

"I think it's just me leg, Molls. Can't move it." His voice was tired.

"Can you feel it? Keep talking to me mate. Sir, I need an emergency Med Evac now!"

"It'll be three minutes, Dawes." Brains had already radioed it in.

"Just hang in there, Kinders, alright? We'll get you out of there soon. Keep talkin' all that shit you always do, yeah? How's Arsenal doin'?" She was desperate to keep him awake. Looking over at him, she could see how pale he was becoming.

"Sir, there's a lot of blood. I'm gonna have to-" Molly turned around to look Charles in the eye. She needed him to let her do her job; Kinders didn't stand a chance if she didn't.

She hadn't even spotted Rachel at the missing briefing this morning but there she was, only metres away from Charles and talking hurriedly into her radio. Even in a war zone she looked beautiful.

"Fuck it!" She muttered, lifting her Bergen and running over to Kinders, the gunfire raging on all around her. "You're alright mate, I'm gonna stem the bleeding before the helicopter gets here."

"Someone fucking cover her!" Charles demanded in the radio, prompting Nude Nut and Mansfield to run after her, pointing their weapons all the time towards the enemy.

"Hang in there, Eggy, come on mate!" He was losing consciousness.

He finally fell into sleep just as the helicopter arrived overhead. Realising that they were outnumbered significantly, the remaining insurgents made a run for it and drove off together in one of the trucks.

Realising what was happening, Molly looked up just in time to see a second helicopter blast the truck into smithereens.

* * *

 _But y'all know we were made for each other so I find you and hold you down_

* * *

 **Hey Guys!**

 **Apologies once again for the delay - I am so sorry :( Confidence really is an obstacle of mine and I cannot thank you enough for your incredibly lovely reviews. I am so overwhelmed by the support for this story and I never imagined when I thought of it during my AS exams that people would want to read it! I'm afraid I can't tell you just what CJ is up to at the moment but I promise all will be revealed and I love a happy ending. Hopefully the last quote included in this will give you all some reassurance that our favourite couple will be okay. Did you all see the Our Girl 2 trailer? I am so SO excited! I have had a busy few weeks and had my first 2 ever driving lessons - sorry if you hate us L drivers ;-) Hope you're all well!**

 **Thank you once again for your support. I love each and every one of you. Please feel free to leave another review - they really do encourage me and give me the courage to write and publish my work in my (many) moments of doubt. They mean more to me than you will ever know!**

 **I'll hopefully be back at the start of the week with the next chapter.**

 **Love always,**

 **Sarah x**


	4. Anger

**ANGER**

* * *

 _If this is what you truly want, I can wear her skin over mine_

* * *

Accepting the fact that there was nothing they could do now that Kinders was in the safe hands of the medical team, Two Section patrolled back to Camp Palisade quietly, the undercurrent of fear they had felt that morning refusing to leave them.

Molly Dawes was towards the back of her group slowly trying to construct a timeline of the morning's events to make sense of it all and to figure out, most importantly, where it had went to shit.

Charles had refused to speak a word to her after the Kinders fiasco and maintained an awkward silence anytime their eyes had met on the trek home. Indeed, even an hour into the hike down the mountain that were blessed with the hot sun rays of Iraq this time, his face was still composed into his Captain Stern Face impression. The Major himself couldn't stop thinking about Molly's actions and, as furious as he was at her for characteristically disrespecting his rank and his authority, he knew that the main issue was that he was scared of losing her: any of her and in any way.

But this was a weakness he could never admit to if he wanted to avoid becoming emotionally involved once again on tour. Yes Molly was his wife and he was desperate beyond anything to protect her, but as the higher command had drilled into him - this is war. And war, above all else in the army, came first. Nothing was stronger than the army and its regulations. Therefore, knowing that this conversation was overdue, he decided that the only way he could protect her without personally doing so was to ensure that she herself knew what was at stake.

Turning into Major mode, Charles James slowed down his stride allowing his wife to catch up with him and glanced in her direction. He sighed.

"What the fuck did you think you were doing?" The quiet anger was hard to miss.

His deep voice took her by surprise as Molly had been so lost in thought that she didn't realise she was now walking beside her husband. Deciding that ignorance was the best policy on this occasion, she swallowed and acted innocent.

"I'm sorry, sir?" She knew that he would see right through her confused façade.

"Stop the bullshit Dawes and explain yourself. Why did you ignore my order to stay put?" Charles was making a conscious effort to keep his voice low to avoid the querying glances of Two Section.

Molly once again swallowed and looked around her as she thought of an answer.

"I dunno, sir."

"What the fuck do you mean you 'dunno'? I told you very explicitly to leave Kinders until it was safe enough for you to care for him and not only did you hear me but you dismissed me. Well, Dawes, it was a bloody stupid decision." Charles was finding it hard to control his anger as he kept his eyes firmly ahead while Two Section left a nearby village on their descent down the mountain after they had secured the compound and left Three Section on guard to patrol it. The green and sandy hills were breathtaking but the locals were more interested in the soldiers walking through, no doubt used to the beautiful landscape they availed of everyday.

"I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again. I just wanted to do me job and make sure he were okay like-"

"What? So to do your job you have to stop me doing mine? I am your superior and when I give you an order I expect you to follow you! Can you understand that?" He was nearly shouting as his temper rose and a few of the lads looked in their direction concerned.

"Yes, sir, I'm sorry, sir-" a familiar red blush was beginning to work its way up Molly's neck and her throat was getting hot. But she was never going to cry in front of him.

"Are you really though, Dawes? You not only endangered yourself but your whole section and that was bloody selfish. I hope you're proud of yourself because I am fucking furious!" Now undeniably yelling, Charles muttered 'shit' to himself as Two Section made no secret of their concern and began to murmur among themselves. "We'll talk about this later."

Molly had little time to so much as nod as Charles walked away.

"Everything okay, darlin'?" Mansfield picked up his pace to walk beside Molly who was trying to blink away the hot tears forming at the back of her eyes. Not trusting her voice enough to not betray her and shake, she simply smiled and nodded her head and slowed down so that Mike would overtake her.

But he didn't miss the muddy rolling down her cheek as he walked away, one which she immediately reached up to wipe.

And, with immense guilt dominating his heart, neither did Charles.

* * *

 _We can pose for a photograph. All 3 of us, immortalised; you and your perfect girl_

* * *

"Even when I'm in a bloody hospital bed I can't get a minute's peace from you lot!" Kinders flashed a grin as Molly approached his bed. For all his bravdo, Eggy would be the first to admit his loneliness after his night in Camp Palisade's hospital following his leg injury.

Emergency surgery had been required to dislodge the bullet in his leg and stem the bleeding but now, the next morning, he was completely at ease - no doubt helped by the serious doses of morphine the 'lovely nurses' had been supplying him with.

"How you feelin' today then mate?" Molly laughed as she sat herself down on the chair beside him. "They ain't kicked you out yet, I see."

"Apparently it wasn't as bad as it looked. Slightly gutted though. I suggested that perhaps some R and R in Cyprus would help my rehabilitation but they said I'll be right as rain soon."

"That's a bit shit!" They both laughed.

"And also, I'm bloody glad when we were in Afghan stopping drugs that we didn't disrupt any morphine supplies because this stuff is bleeding good. You should've said!"

"Is that what we was doing in Afghan then? I was never really that sure, Boss." Molly knew Kinders well enough to know that he'd appreciate her humour in a break from staring at the four white walls around him.

"Maybe, Dawes. To be honest, I was never that sure myself!" He chuckled heartily but winced as he moved his leg to sit up more. "Why don't you ask that husband of yours?"

He automatically sensed her discomfort as her smile fell and she began to pull at a thread on her combats. Finally, she met his eye again and forced a giggle.

"Don't think he's half pleased with me at the minute to be honest, Eggs."

"What makes you say that?" Easter frowned as he took in the unmistakable sadness of the young girl in front of him, a sadness she had denied to him only days before. He knew he was good at his job.

"Just stuff I guess," she shrugged. "Don't think he were too happy with me goin' out to you."

"Well, I have two answers for you, Molly Dawes. Number one: according to the people in here you saved my life by stopping the bleeding but then again they're probably shit at their job and know fuck all," he winked to try and make her laugh. "And number two: the last I heard, Major James recommended to Beck that he take no further action against you because he said he never gave you a direct answer the last time you asked him if you could go to help me."

"What you on about?" Molly was confused. Ever since they had arrived back at the compound in Iraq, Charles had avoided Molly following the mission debrief and anytime their eyes met he quickly looked away and busied himself.

"Didn't you hear? He let you off; said it was a logical and safe decision so I wouldn't worry about it. Why don't you go see your old man and say cheers?" Molly couldn't miss the mischievous look in his eyes as she breathed a sigh of relief.

Not only had he let her off with it but he defended her even though she was wrong. Therefore, she thought, he couldn't be angry with her anymore. For the first time in days she could feel a proper smile on her face, her cheek muscles hurting already after their hiatus over the last few miserable days.

"Perv!" It was as if the very stars that her husband had ignited in her life were sparkling again, the beauty around her craving her attention. Because he still cared.

"That's the Molly Dawes I know!" Eggy decided that sitting up was too painful and began to lower his body down the hospital regulation bedsheets once again.

"Here, before you go, any chance you could bring me a bacon sarnie?"

Molly gave him the finger and ran out the door.

* * *

 _I don't know when love became elusive. What I know is no one I know has it_

* * *

The day passed painfully slow for the medic as she carried out her shift in Two Section's med tent. Following her brief visit to Kinders, she was forced to busy herself with her duties as she watched the clock tick by, longing for it to be 1800 hours so that she could talk to Charles. Although hopefully talking wouldn't be what he had in mind - she was eager to thank him in other ways.

It was 17:55 when she heard someone tapping the tent's poles, Camp Palisade's equivalent to knocking a door.

"Me shift's over in 5 minutes, mate, so it better be urgent or you can wait on the next poor girl!" Molly shouted jokingly.

Charles smiled to himself. He hadn't heard her voice sound so happy since their honeymoon.

"Sorry, my boots are giving me some trouble again. Don't suppose you could fit me in?" He bit back a smile and raised his eyebrows, gesturing towards the camp bed as pleaded with his eyes for her to let him sit down.

His wife rolled her eyes.

"Seeing as it's you, sir!" She giggled and indicated with her hand that he could make himself comfortable. A blush began to creep up her cheeks, this time a happy one, as she busied himself getting the necessary plasters, tape and scissors.

The next five minutes passed in complete silence as Molly prodded his feet, smirking at the state they were in. Charles didn't miss the hint of a smile on her lips as she worked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she avoided his gaze. Despite his nerves regarding the conversation he had come to the tent specifically for, the giggles threatening to spill from his wife's mouth were contagious. He cleared his throat and faked outrage.

"What the bloody hell are you laughing at, Dawesy?"

"Nuthin' much, boss. Just happy!" She cut up one of the plasters and taped it onto his foot.

"Anything in particular?" He winced as she spread germolene on the open wound. She shrugged in response and they returned to their comfortable silence.

"Thank you." She mumbled as she tied up his shoe laces, her work complete.

"I'm sorry?" Charles frowned, feeling any calmness he had evaporate from his body as he realised what he had to do.

"For defending me to Beck. Eggy told me. You didn't have to, I mean I would've understood like you was just doin' your job-" her tone was apologetic but faded when he refused to look at her and instead decided to find a CPR poster on the wall incredibly interesting.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that, Molly." He once again gestured for her to sit down beside him and she complied. "I'm sorry for what I did."

She could tell that Charles was uncomfortable as his frown lines deepened while he rubbed the thick curls on the back of his neck. Molly realised that he looked in pain.

"Why are you sorry? I'm the one that got bollocked into next week if you remember!" She tried to put him at ease by injecting humour into the conservation but it was as if he hadn't heard her - he was too lost inside his own thoughts.

"The way I behaved was both unprofessional and unfair and I allowed my own feelings to cloud my judgement and conduct. I'm sorry, Molly." His stare was fixed on the wooden floor.

"Charles-"

"I was angry and upset and I allowed myself to get emotionally involved. When I saw Kinders lying there I thought ... I didn't want you to get hurt or worse. Your decision was perfectly justified and I'm sorry." He sighed and stood up, walking over to the thin window on the wall of the tent and looked out with his hands on his hips. Molly could make out his sharp shoulder blades through the back of his combat hoodie and realised, for the first time since she had looked after him in his recovery from that day on the bridge, that he was troubled and vulnerable.

"I've been thinking all night about this, I couldn't sleep at all. I think that.." He stopped and turned around, almost pleading at her with his eyes once again to understand without making him have to speak. But she didn't follow.

"You think what?" Molly was quickly becoming scared. This couldn't be _it_ , surely?

Charles James turned towards the window again and looked out. He couldn't look at her.

"I think that we should lead separate lives, Molly," He spoke in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper.

"What?" It took her a few moments to understand. She could feel the tears burn at the back of her eyes which she furiously blinked away.

Charles finally turned round to face her. Biting his lip, he tried to enforce some of his confident authority. "On tour, I mean. Just until I can get you home safely. Everyone home safely."

Molly shook her head slowly in disbelief. "But what about me?" He had no answer.

"Charles, I'm not angry at you." She walked across the room and grabbed his arm, begging him to acknowledge her as the tears began to threaten her voice and made her sound like she was pleading.

"No. But I am."

"You don't need to be angry with yourself! You're a Major, I should'a listened to you-"

"Molly, please understand," his voice was quickly becoming tired. "We can't become emotionally involved and that's what has been wrong since you got here. I care too much for you to ever be able to ensure your safety out here which is selfish. Look what happened Smurf!"

The tears that were threatening to spill over her eyes quickly turned to ones of frustration.

"WILL YOU STOP BLAMING YOURSELF FOR AFGHAN!"

"Who do you want me to blame then, hmm? Because frankly, Molly, I'm running out of people." They were walking into territory that Molly knew they should quickly leave.

"You can blame me, if it helps." She offered.

"I could never blame you, Molly." His voice was tender but strained as he shook his head in shame. She knew that he was becoming desperate for this conversation to end.

And then it clicked.

She knew why he was so desperate to distance himself from her and to ultimately get her to leave him alone for the remainder of their duration in Iraq.

It was nothing to do with him or her; he wasn't desperate to protect her and it wasn't because he was in anyway angry with himself. 'How could I have been so stupid?' She thought to herself angrily as the tears finally began to spill down her face.

Charles looked concerned as she finally met his eye and took a deep breath. Breaking the silence, she whispered.

"Is this to do with _her_?"

* * *

 _My father's arms around my mother's neck. Fruit too ripe to eat_

* * *

"To do with who, Molly?" He ran his hand over his forehead to suggest that he was getting bored of the conversation.

"I'm right, ain't I? You're telling me to bleeding well leave you alone so that you can go off and play happy families with _her_. Well I'm telling you, Charlie, I ain't waitin' around for you to treat me like a fool!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"Do you make a habit of this? Fucking with another girl when you're on tour? Is that what I was to you and now you're tryna push me off with some macho bullshit?"

"Be careful, Molly." The warning in his tone was enough for her. He took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself down, conscious of the fact that the replacement medic due for their shift would be arriving any moment. "Who are you talking about? I have never lied to you."

Fat tears were now streaming down her face and she was making no effort to wipe them away.

"Rachel." Molly's voice cracked.

Her eyes looked up to see Charles rolling his tongue around his mouth while he stared at his regulation combat boots stuck firmly to the floor.

Every instinct in his body was telling Charles to take Molly into his arms and hold her tight; to kiss away her hurt and apologise, wanting more than anything to go back to a time before they were both deployed when they were both so excited and happy about life and the adventures they would have as a married couple. But for some reason he couldn't move.

He watched as Molly walked to the other side of the tent lost in thought. She looked at herself in the small mirror above the spotless sink and then sat herself down on the floor, her legs hugged tightly to her chest as she swayed herself softly forwards and backwards, taking her braid down as she did so and leaving her long brunette waves to fall messily down her back.

"I'm turning into me mam," Molly laughed at the darkness of the situation and sniffed. "Always said I would never be like 'er. I'd never let me happiness depend on someone or let that person fuck me over again and again cause I was worth better than that..."

Charles crossed the room quietly and sat himself down beside her, playing with his thumbs awkwardly as he listened. Instinct told him to shut the fuck up.

He could remember clearly the night Molly told him all about her dad when he was in hospital in Birmingham. It had been 2am and she had snuck in after visiting hours to be with him. He could recall the haunted look in her eyes as she relayed the times her dad would come home drunk from the pub in the middle of the night and her mum waited for him at the bottom of the stairs. Sometimes Molly would listen to their row, arguments that often took the same path: that Dave was a waste of space, a drunk alcoholic who fucked any girl he wanted and then crawled back to Belinda, promising that he had 'changed' and would never hurt her again. He'd stay sober for a few days and would be on best behaviour, resulting in all of the little bleeders being born. Molly never wanted to get stuck in that cycle of being played but forgiving anyway because she was in love and scared of being alone.

"I trusted you with that," her voice was hoarse from crying. "I told you that I'm shit scared of losing myself like she has. I love you, Charles, and I want to believe you so badly and I know deep down that you're telling the truth. But it's all turning to shit and I don't know how to stop it." She let out another sob and Charles pulled her into his chest, running his hands through her waves and kissing her forehead softly.

"It's okay." He breathed soothingly, tears forming in his own eyes.

"Is it?"

* * *

 _I think of lovers as trees growing to and from one another, searching for the same light_

* * *

They sat like that for a while. Charles nursed the fragile frame of his wife in his arms and wiped away her tears as she cried silently. He had never been more relieved that a medic was twenty minutes late for their shift.

Feeling Major James stir, Molly sat herself up straight as Charles took out a white envelope from the inside of his jacket with her name printed in his unmistakable cursive handwriting.

"I want you to read this, Molls. Not now, but later." She nodded warily and accepted it reluctantly from his large hand, folding it into her own.

"I can't tell you what's going on right now, my love. I wish I could but I can't. But I promise that one day when this is all over, when we're both back at Brize in one piece, that I'll tell you everything." He planted another kiss onto her temple. "And I promise that we're going to be okay, okay? I just need you to believe that."

Molly nodded and let out a watery giggle as Charles butterfly kissed the edge of her mouth. "I know." Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes but, seeing the hope in them, it was enough for her husband to continue.

"All I need you to do is keep being that brave and strong woman that I know and love. Wars mess with people's heads, Molly, and you know that better than anyone. But we'll both survive and when we do, we can truly begin the rest of our lives as man and wife." He entwined his fingers into her and reached her knuckles up to his lips to lightly kiss them individually.

"I'm not brave," She whispered through a fresh wave of tears. "I just wanted to impress you; impress her. I'm shit scared. I can't get a calmness in me nut. When I saw Kinders lying there I panicked, all I could see was Smurf and I felt helpless."

Charles put his finger under her chin and turned her so she was facing him. His thumb rested on her cheekbone, ready to catch any tears that fell. The look in his eyes reminded Molly so much of the night he had held her in the hospital in Afghanistan after Sohail died.

"Molly, you are braver than you will ever know. You have a medal to prove it! You never, never need to try and impress me because I love you. I loved you then, I love you now and I'll love you always. Please don't ever forget that." He took a deep breath and chuckled shyly. "And if we're being honest, I'm shit scared too."

Knowing how hard that would have been for him to admit - after all, Major James prided himself on being fearless and a leader - Molly raised her small hand purposefully and stroked his cheek, feeling him lean in to her touch and kiss the palm that was exposed.

"There's a lot that you don't know about, stuff that's going on in the background. I know you squaddies are bored out of your minds but give it time."

Suddenly, they could hear Jackie shouting frantically as she walked with purpose towards the med tent that she was 30 minutes late to. Feeling Molly begin to detach herself from him, Charles held her tight and whispered in her ear.

"I'll come back to you, Molly. Don't worry."

Tenderly, she murmured back, "Ditto."

Charles had unzipped the back side of the tent and walked out unnoticed by anyone before Jackie appeared in the door, her hair a mess and her cheeks flustered as she ripped off her blue plastic apron from the medical centre.

"I'm so, so sorry I'm late Molls!" She was too busy sorting out the equipment to notice that Molly was also slightly dishevelled and hurriedly trying to fix the redness around her eyes. "Some poor bugger was flown in, half his leg was hanging off-"

"Don't worry, Jacks, I'll see ya later!" She walked briskly out of the tent before Jackie had a chance to properly look at her.

As hard as she tried, Molly couldn't get the memory out of her nut of Charles' parting kiss. A tender kiss; full of longing and hope and one that ended much too quickly for her liking. But, it did make one thing clear to Molly, at least temporarily: she was still his.

* * *

 _Why can't you see me? Why can't you? Why can't you see me? Everyone else can_

* * *

It was December 22nd in snowy London.

"Molly, if you don't get your cockney ass down these stairs in two minutes I'm coming up there for you!" Charles James was standing at the bottom of the cream carpeted stairs, looking at himself in the mirror as he put on his Officer suit. Moments after, he heard a door open upstairs, conscious of the fact that they were supposed to leave 10 minutes ago.

Molly was incredibly nervous as she made her way down the stairs avoiding Charles' gaze. Her long brown hair was down, showcased in voluminous waves that framed her face effortlessly. The classic black dress she was wearing was floor length and highlighted her curves perfectly while her smokey eye and pale lips convinced Charles that all the other women would be insanely jealous of her. In short, she looked beautiful.

"Hello you," He wrapped one arm around her waist and brushed his lips lightly against hers, knowing full well that she would slap him into next week if he ruined the makeup she had spent hours on. "You look gorgeous."

"You don't look too bad yourself, handsome!" She smiled but couldn't mask the anxiety on her face. It was only two hours ago that Molly expressed her fears that she'd end up like Bridget Jones at that 'law do' and instructed Charles to not let her, under any circumstances, answer a question about Madonna - whatever that meant.

This was Molly's first Christmas Officers Ball and it had taken weeks for Charles to convince her to go. Knowing how nervous she was, he felt a duty to protect and look after her; to reassure her that everyone would love her, especially since she was now his fiancée, a fact he couldn't wait to broadcast and reveal in any and every conversation he had tonight.

Now lying in her bed in Camp Palisade, Molly felt the all too familiar butterflies dancing around her tummy at her memories of that glorious night.

It's not that Charles was possessive - he was just proud that she was his and he took great delight in showing her off that night. From the moment they had walked in he had felt the envious glares coming from his fellow officers as they looked in awe at Molly and, instead of telling them to piss off, he simply placed his hand on the small of her back and beamed as he guided her in to the welcoming line. They had danced, sang and laughed together the whole night and, for all of her protesting, Molly found that she was actually rather enjoying herself - not that she would ever admit that. Charles' macho pride was big enough without her inflating his head any further.

Her fingers ran over her lips softly as she remembered the hairs on her back of her neck rising as his hot breath illuminated her ears when he whispered, "I want to take you home... now," when he became bored of sharing her with everyone else.

Looking back now, Molly smiled at the pure excitement and contentment she had felt that night. However, as a small lone tear ran down her face, she was overwhelmed by the fear that they would - and could - never be that innocently in love again.

* * *

 **Hi guys!**

 **I am so sorry for the wait - I hope that you'll never have to wait this long again but hopefully the fact that this is my longest ever chapter will make up for it! Life just got busy with getting my AS results and general worries about this story but my sincerest thanks go to those of you who leave reviews and encourage me to keep going. I love you all dearly and hope that the sun is treating you well! And I hope that those of you who were getting results or know someone who did got the results they wanted :)**

 **For those of you who asked, I must say I'm not a natural at driving lol! At first I struggled to stay on the road and opted for driving into the grass on the side of the road but now my problem is staying in the middle and not going into the other cars on the right side of the road! Oh well. Onwards and upwards ;)**

 **Thank you once again for everything that you do. Please leave a review if you're enjoying this - they brighten my darkest hours.**

 **Until next time where you'll see the return of a familiar face and the plot and initial idea for this story become obvious! I apologise if this has been moving slowly.**

 **Love always,**

 **Sarah X**


	5. Don't Hurt Yourself

**DON'T HURT YOURSELF**

* * *

 _When you hurt me, you hurt yourself. Try not to hurt yourself._

* * *

"You asked to see me, sir?" Major James looked up from the stack of paperwork he was frowning at on his desk and immediately set down his pen. He slid his chair across the carpet to turn off The Killers music playing on his laptop and offered a reserved smile at the figure standing in his doorway.

"At ease, Private. Please take a seat." Rachel smiled and made herself comfortable in the seat Charles was gesturing towards with his left hand. Being technically off-duty, Rachel Stone did not miss the glimmer of his wedding ring under his desk lamp. Although it went against regulation, he considered wearing it in the compound a Major's perk.

"Is everything alright, sir?" She didn't miss the frown lines on his forehead as he picked up his pen again and twirled it round in his long fingers.

"To cut the bullshit, Private Stone, we have decided to remove you from the operation." Charles flinched at her shouts of outrage. He swallowed and continued on.

"The intelligence you have been able to source for us on this tour thus far has been fundamental in both our safety and success at Camp Palisade. Her Majesty's army is heavily indebted to you."

Rachel could tell by his clipped tone that she could not argue with him.

"Intelligence suggests that the cell we are monitoring are planning to target a female soldier in this camp and we have reason to believe that your safety has been compromised. I think it is best that you remain off the operation for the time being while we investigate the intelligence."

"But Boss -" Rachel could feel her fists clenching. This was because of _her_. 

"I'm sorry, Stone. You will be on duty within the camp for the foreseeable future. I'm afraid we can't risk your personal safety or endanger anyone else." His tired voice suggested that he was finished with the conversation and he turned his attention back to his work.

Rachel glared at him and the familiarity of the stare was not lost on Charles. Her temper was like Rebecca's. Sighing, he looked up again. "Is there anything else, Stone?"

"No, sir. Thank you, sir." Her sarcasm wasn't lost on him either and he watched her walk out of his quarters, slamming the door behind her as she went. Shaking his head, he turned on his music again and went back to work.

Lauren was standing outside the mess tent and watched as her friend stormed out of Major James' quarters, her face red with fury and fists clenched tightly as she headed towards her sleeping quarters.

"Rach, wait up!" Lauren broke into a jog after her friend when she ignored her, instead quickening up her pace.

"Fuck off, Lauren. I'm not in the mood!" She didn't even look at her when she shouted over her shoulder.

"Hey! What the hell is wrong with you?" Lauren grabbed Rachel's wrist and forced her to come to a halt. "Rachel, what is it?"

Rachel looked around her for a way to escape Lauren's impression of the Secret Service before she cried. Realising she was caught, she looked her friend straight in the eye and swallowed.

"James has kicked me off the Intelligence squad," she kept her voice as low as a whisper. "Says it's for my own good. What kinda bullshit is that?!"

"Rach I'm so sorry, did he say why?"

The blonde rolled her eyes dramatically. "It's for my own safety, apparently. I don't believe him though."

"You think his bitch of a wife has been having words?"

"Lauren I've told you -"

"Yeah, yeah, that bollocks again. We both know he wants to get into your panties and you'd not exactly say no!" Lauren smirked as a plan came together. "So what are you gonna do about it?"

Rachel crossed her arms subconsciously in thought. They both stood in silence, the sun beating down on them as the sand became almost claustrophobic. Then an idea came to her.

"If he wants to fuck up my life I'll fuck up his."

"That's my girl!" Lauren took Rachel's hand and dragged her into the empty med tent.

* * *

 _You can't recreate her, no; you'll never recreate her, hell no_

* * *

Molly James was sitting on the bed in the med centre sorted out the supply inventory. Listening to her iPod, Molly missed the tap on the tent's poles as she sang along under her breath to Beyoncé.

"Oh! Sorry, are you busy?" A tall brunette girl appeared in the open flap of the tent with an apologetic smile on her face. Molly immediately tore out her headphones and smiled.

"Nah, come on in! What can I do for ya?"

"Sorry, I was just wondering if you could give me any paracetamol? Cramps and all that."

Molly grimaced, empathising with the soldier. "Of course. You wasn't wise doin' PT, have you been sick?"

The girl shook her head and Molly busied herself finding the tablets and opening her filing cabinet to find the necessary medical records. The silence was somewhat awkward.

"Molly, isn't it?" The girl was wearing her PT kit. With her long legs on display, Molly was instantly intimidated by her beauty. Even covered in sweat she looked amazing.

"Yep! Sorry, what's your name again? Take a seat."

"Lauren." She sat herself on the small spot on the bed Molly had just vacated.

Molly froze. Of course that was Lauren, the one that had been the one talking to Rachel that day in the mess tent when she was getting some scoff.

"Here you go, mate. Hope you're feelin' better soon, cramps are shite." Molly forced a cheeky grin. Lauren accepted the tablets and swallowed them with the water Molly had given her in a white plastic cup.

"Thanks!" Lauren hovered in the doorway on her way out, forcing Molly to acknowledge her again.

"Is there anythin' else?"

Lauren took a step back into the tent and gave Molly a face of concern. "Is it true what they're saying about Major James and Private Stone?"

"What you on about?" Molly glared at her from the other side of the tent.

"Apparently they went to Beck this morning and told him they're having a relationship. She's not allowed on patrol with him anymore."

Molly shook her head dismissively. "That isn't true."

"Are you sure? Apparently he's not gonna tell his wife until she's back from her tour. Says he doesn't want to hurt her feelings. Think he's just playing along with her and keeping her happy until they both get home. I guess you can't help when you fall in love, can you?"

Her feigned innocence was beginning to piss Molly off and she thought it best to get her to leave before she slapped her into next week. The bitch knew rightly who the Major's wife was.

Not trusting her voice at what she was hearing, Molly simply shrugged. Lauren basically skipped out of the tent with smug satisfaction written all over her face.

Molly shut the tent flap and sat back down on the bed. She felt physically sick.

It all made sense.

Charles had been feeding her bullshit and playing happy families for the last week with her. The late night visits to his quarters, the smiles he flashed at her on patrol, the way he'd kiss her in the safety of her med tent.

He'd been playing the role of her husband. He had no intention of being honest with her and was just keeping her happy until he could tell her their marriage was over when they touched down at Brize. He'd lied.

She hadn't realised she was crying until the white envelope she had lifted out of her pocket was dotted with water: the envelope he had given her over a week ago when everything was okay again in the world. Running her finger over his own personal cursive font, she read the 'open when I say' as fresh tears landed on the thin paper.

And so this was the end. But she wasn't going to give them both the satisfaction of watching her heart break.

She'd have to break her own first.

* * *

 _Who the fuck do you think I am? You ain't married to no average bitch, boy_

* * *

The darkness of Camp Palisade through the window made Charles yawn as he tried to focus on his laptop screen. It had became nighttime without him noticing and the fact he was sitting with no lights on was a complete surprise to him. It was now midnight. He switched on his desk lamp just as someone knocked at his door.

"Come in!" He gave himself a shake and was trying his best to look awake when he began to relax. It was Molly.

"What are you doing up so late, Molly James?" His warm smile wasn't returned. Instead, his wife was staring just beyond him at the framed photo of them both from the night they became engaged. Feeling the tears return, she met his eye.

"Who the fuck do you think I am, Charles?" The sharpness of her voice had caught him off guard.

"I'm sorry?" Suddenly he was very awake.

"STOP IT!" She screamed. "STOP LYING!"

Charles stood up and went to touch her arm when she snatched it away. Rolling his tongue round his mouth in concern, he changed his tactics. "Molly, calm down. What are you talking about?"

"I know, Charles! I know!" It clicked.

"Oh for fuck sake, Molly we sorted this last week-"

"Why are you playing me? Do I mean that little to you?" She was crying by now but she didn't even care. She was furious.

"My love -" Charles went to wipe a tear away when she moved back.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!"

"I have no fucking idea what you're on about or what you've heard. I'm being serious."

"Let me fill you in then. I know all about your precious fucking plan. You was gonna keep me sweet and let me believe that we was alright til we got back to Brize and then you was for telling me it's over; that you found someone new. Well fuck you, Charles. I'm finished being your bit of rough on the side."

Charles walked towards the window. He couldn't look at her in so much pain without being able to do anything about it.

"Molly, I swear to God that isn't true. I don't know who told you that but I am disgusted that you would even think that of me." His voice was rising steadily with his anger.

"Lauren told me, Charles. I know."

"Molly, I know she's Rachel's best friend but it isn't how it looks. I don't want you to be in pain-" Charles was beginning to sound defeated and almost sad. Even Molly in her complete state of furor noticed he sounded nothing like the ruthless and invincible Major he normally did.

"So it's true?" She kept a steady eye on him as he made his way over to his small sofa and sat himself down on it. Placing his fingers on his temples, he closed his eyes as if he was in pain.

"We can't do this right now, Molly. You are supposed to be my wife. Believe me. Please." He opened his eyes to plead with her silently to believe him.

That was the moment she knew.

Molly pulled the white envelope out of her pocket once again and folded the edges subconsciously as she paced up and down the small space. "I'm guessin' this is full of shit as well?"

"Nothing I have told you is a lie, Molly."

"STOP LYING TO ME!" Molly was hysterical. She placed her hands on either side of her head as if soothing a migraine and sobbed inconsolably, feeling her life crash down around her.

* * *

 _Beautiful man, I know you're lying but I am not broken, I'm not crying... I'm just too much for you_

* * *

Molly felt on the verge of hyperventilating when Charles wrapped his warm arms round her, pulling her body into him and running his fingers through her long dark waves. She surrendered to the comfort and safety of his embrace and succumbed to the soft assurances he was whispering in her ear.

Feeling her calm down in his arms and her breathing return to something resembling a normal pace, he guided her in his arms to sit beside her on the sofa and sat her down. Sitting beside her, he waited in silence to give her time to think. He didn't know what to say.

The silence was becoming painful when she took a deep breath and looked at time, her sad green eyes unfocused with tears threatening to be shed.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Charles. I can't do this anymore." Her voice was like a whisper in the quiet room, her fingers fidgeting with the chain on her neck hidden under her combat jacket. The nights were cold and lonely in Camp Palisade.

"I love you," she reached her hand up to touch his cheek, her thumb soft against the day's stubble. "And that's why I'll let you go."

Charles was about to speak in protest when she shushed him softly, her eyes filling up again.

"I can't make you stay if this isn't what you want. It wouldn't be fair on either of us... Love is about sacrifice, ain't it?"

"How could you let me go, Molly? I married you. Why can't you understand that? I chose you. I'd always choose you."

"Because one of us should be happy, Charles. And I want it to be you. You said in Afghan that you never wanted to hurt me and you stayin' with me when you want to be with someone else will do just that."

"Moll, please-"

"No, shh. It's okay!" A lonesome tear made its way down her cheek as she stroked his face. "All I want is for you to be happy."

"I can't be happy without you!" He felt his own voice shake. Shit. He moved his head causing her hand to fall. She stood up.

"You can, Charles. You are. I'm not gonna say its doesn't hurt but I don't want to be makin' a fool out of."

"You're not listening to me!"

"No, I am. I've listened since I got here. We all make mistakes, Charles. If you think marrying me was one then that's okay. I will forgive you someday. But I need you to move on... To be okay." Molly reached behind her neck and undid the silver chain hanging from her neck.

Molly opened up his clenched hands and placed the chain in it. A tear landed on top of it but neither were sure whose it was.

Opening his palm, he saw her wedding ring on the silver chain he had given her the night before he had left for Iraq. He had intended for it to keep the ring safe.

"Molly..." Charles began to cry in a way Molly had never saw before. He was no longer the army Major who took no shit - he was a man who didn't know what to do. He was heartbroken. Lost. "Molly this isn't what I want. I told you I will explain what is really going on!"

"You can't have it both ways!" She tried to smile through her own tears but it turned into more of a grimace. She had to go.

"But I love you." He grabbed her hand, pleading with her to stay.

"It's over, Charles. I'm being strong for both of us. It's over." Now sobbing, Charles wrapped her once again in his embrace and cried into her hair.

"But I don't want you to go. Please don't leave me."

"I have to, okay? I'm making it easier for you. Please promise me you'll be happy without me Charles." Looking into his dark eyes, she resisted every urge in her body to stay where she was.

"Never." He kissed her: a parting kiss of longing, sadness and regret. A kiss of mourning. Of a love that's flame was threatening to flicker out in the storm.

"Please." She wiped her eyes and made her way to the door. "Goodnight Charles."

Closing the door, Charles sank down against the wall. On the wall was a photo of him and Molly in front of a statue of Caesar in Rome. They were tanned, carefree and in love. Molly was unaware at the time that he had been carrying a diamond in his pocket for over a month trying to pluck up the courage to propose to the love of his life. And now she had left him.

* * *

 _You ain't trying hard enough, you ain't loving hard enough, you don't love me deep enough, we not reaching peaks enough_

* * *

Charles finished his fourth mug of Rosabya that morning as he waited on Beck and the other intelligence officers to arrive in the ops tent. It was only 0700 hours but Charles hadn't slept all night. Knowing that his complexion was bordering on grey and the dark circles under his eyes made him look ill, he had tried to resemble something other than a corpse this morning but had dramatically failed. He was about to make his fifth cup when Beck announced his arrival.

"At ease, James. You look like shit."

With everyone in the ops tent, the meeting got underway. Matthews stood up first, pointing at various places on the map.

"New intelligence suggests that the cell are planning an attack imminently in a village 3 miles from here. We have reason to believe that it is expected within the next 48 hours."

"So what are we going to do about it?" One of the officers asked, sparking James' attention. He hadn't really been listening.

"Wait, there's more. We have positively identified the cell's leader." The head of intelligence pinned up a mug shot of a man.

Charles could hear the blood in his ears. It couldn't be...

"This man goes by Zemaray. He originates from the Taliban but he has pledged allegiance to IS..."

"Stop, stop! I know that man." Everyone turned to look at Charles. Beck noticed that he looked even paler. He remembered.

"James and I have previous experience with him, Matthews. From Afghanistan." Beck shot looks of concern at Charles who looked lost in thought.

"Everyone be quiet!" Charles snapped as he closed his eyes to think. The intelligence, the terror threats, Rachel, the rumours they were targeting a female officer... "How could I have been so stupid?" He banged his fist on the table in frustration and stood up, turning to address his superiors and inferiors alike.

"Intelligence suggested that his cell were planning to target a female soldier in our platoon. I thought it was Private Rachel Stone because she was the one who had breached the cell and had gathered the information... But I got it wrong. This isn't about Stone, not in the slightest."

Charles turned his back to look at the board closely. Taking in the checkpoints, the previous events and the sticky notes, it was obvious.

"Zemaray wants revenge. He wants Molly."

Beck immediately understood. Standing up with urgency, he barked at Captain Wilson. "Where is Molly?!"

"Two Section and Three Section were sent to patrol the village about an hour ago to ward off an attack on the locals. Kinders is with them."

"I want them back here IMMEDIATELY!" Major James ordered, his training immediately kicking in. He needed to protect his wife.

"Copy that, sir." Captain Wilson rushed out of the tent. He appeared back a few moments later carrying his radio. "Kinders says it'll take them an hour to all get back. Will we wait on them, sir?"

Tugging at the curls on the back of his neck, Charles felt himself tense. "How far away is it by truck?"

"About 10 minutes, sir." Glancing at Beck, Charles nodded and made his way out of the ops tent.

"We need 6 trucks. Let's go!" Lifting his helmet as he went, Major James and Captain Wilson made their way to the front of Camp Palisade and climbed into the vehicles followed by the drivers of One Section closely behind.

* * *

 _We've just got to let it be, baby_

* * *

Molly was setting up the temporary med centre in the small village. It had immediately been made clear that the locals had been warned against the presence of the British troops by some terrorist cell or another and had been initially resistant in even making eye contact with them when they arrived. Sensing the tension, Kinders had deployed Two Section to monitor the perimeter of the village while One Section mingled with the locals.

Hearing the familiar banter of Fingers, Dangles and Mansfield outside the small compound she was to call home for the rest of the day, Molly was unpacking her bergen when there was a knock on the wooden door.

"It's open!" She called, not bothering to turn around to see who it was as she suspected it was Kinders coming in to check how she was getting on. It took her a few seconds to realise there was someone in the room who was remaining silent.

"You alright, Eggs?" She said over her shoulders as she unrolled the mattress for the patient bed.

"Hello, Molly." Molly immediately recognised the heavy-accent and was about to radio in for help when she felt someone grab her and hold her tightly to him, automatically feeling the nudge of something hard on her waist. Zemaray tightened his grip on her and nudged the stun gun in closer to her side, enjoying her winces of pain as she tried to shout for help with his arm securely round her throat.

"I'm - not - scared - of - you!" Molly coughed out, finding it increasingly harder to breathe.

"Oh dear, we'll have to fix that, won't we?" His laugh was thick in her ear. Seizing the opportunity, Molly screamed.

"You stupid girl." Suddenly she felt a sharp pain in her side and was finding it hard to stay upright. Her side was burning.

Everything went dark.

* * *

 _If you try this shit again, you gon' lose your wife_

* * *

 **Hey guys!**

 **Long time no post :( I am so sorry it has been over 2 months. I did not intend for it to be this long! School has been so busy this year (who know upper sixth form would be such hard work?;) ) and I've found it hard to get time to write. This has been a work in progress for a very long time and I thought I'd post it now or I never will. Sorry it's a little rusty! I'm not very happy with it but I need to post it to move forward. Please bear with me while I try to establish a routine to make sure updates are more frequent. I miss writing and all things Our Girl! It's now half-term so I plan to pre-write a few chapters to help me update regularly and I really want to catch up on all the amazing stories that are being posted.**

 **I was gutted watching Our Girl 2 when I realised how similar its plot was to my ideas for this story and I'm sorry if you are sick of this whole kidnap thing :( I've had this planned in advance for months and I hope this isn't too predictable now. Btw, what were your thoughts on the new series? I hope Ben is back for Series 3!**

 **Thank you so much for all of your lovely messages asking me where I am and if this will be updated. I promise this story will never be left unfinished! And I will do my best to ensure you never have to wait this long again. I am genuinely so, so sorry and hope I can make it up to you.**

 **Thank you for everything. I love you all so much and I hope to see you soon! Happy Halloween if you'll be celebrating. (Or, if you're like me, you'll be enjoying the extra hour in bed!) Oh, and feel free to leave a review! They mean more to me than you will ever know.**

 **All my love ALWAYS,**

 **Sarah xoxo**

 **P.S. This chapter was inspired by one of the Shopaholic novels and an episode of Reign.**


	6. Apathy (Sorry)

**APATHY (SORRY)**

* * *

 _So what are you gonna say at my funeral now that you've killed me?_

* * *

"How much longer?" Major James was sitting in the front seat of the army truck making its way up the mountain track. His fingers were tapping against the door-frame restlessly as he shook his foot up and down.

If Charles had been in the right frame of mind he would have felt sorry for the soldier obviously on his first tour of Iraq. Sensing the Major's tension, he swallowed, "We're 2 minutes out, sir." They had left the camp 15 minutes ago and had been conveniently held up by the British Army checkpoint halfway up the mountain. Although Charles had been able to pull rank to get fast tracked through the system, the 5 trucks behind him were left in the process of being searched.

The bumpy track was making the journey extremely uncomfortable and Charles was about to throw open his door and jump out when small huts appeared over the hill. They were there.

The village was coming to life in the small hours of the morning. Women and their chaperones walked across the makeshift village centre on their way to buy bread for breakfast, small children played games with the stones in the sand while old men sat outside their front doors enjoying the hot Iraqi sun. It was business as usual outside Camp Palisade.

"Bossman! Don't you trust us to patrol a village?" Dangles grinned as soon as the Major jumped down from the truck, automatically fastening his helmet and holding his weapon. He wasn't in the mood to snap a sarcastic remark back and instead marched purposefully over to Kinders.

"Maybe he's tryin' to find out what the missus is cookin' him fer dinner?" Baz offered, a cheeky smile on his face.

"Molls said earlier it was bangers an' mash, Boss' favourite!" Nude Nut laughed.

"Where's Dawes?" His tall figure took the Captain by surprise and he immediately addressed Molly via his headset. Two attempts later, he radioed in for Mansfield and Brains to fetch her from the med centre. Something wasn't right.

"She's not responding, sir. Her headset must be out of charge..." Kinders didn't have time to finish his reassurances when Mansfield's voice was heard in his ear.

"Err, sir, Dawes isn't here." The panicked voice in Kinders' headset was loud enough for Charles to hear.

"Where the fuck is my wife, Eggy?" James roared, his voice echoing round the compact village and drawing attention to the two men from Two Section. His long strides turned into a run across the village square before Kinders could even answer.

"What do you cockwombles mean that Dawes isn't in there?" Two Section would normally laugh at the term but they were smart enough to know from his tone that he wasn't joking. In fact, he was furious.

"We looked through the back window, Boss, maybe you shouldn't-" Brains tried just at the rest of the trucks pulled up. He knew instantly that the problem was bigger than Charles needing a word with his wife to sort out a domestic.

Kinders had broken out in a run and had caught up with the Major just as he reached the wooden door of the temporary med centre. It was open. Without thinking of what he might see, Charles stormed through the doorway that was too short for him and was shocked by the silence of the small room. Kinders, Brains and Mansfield all came in behind him and the eyes of each of the men were drawn to the same thing.

Molly's headset was lying abandoned on the floor surrounded by a bottle of open pills. She was gone.

Charles sank to his knees slowly and picked up the abandoned headset, spotting the small pool of blood that lay just beyond the scattered tablets. Suddenly the room felt incredibly claustrophobic and dizzying; the heat and the sand were making him feel nauseous and as if he was spinning, as did the sight of Molly's bergen with a non-regulation hairbrush sticking out of it. He was too numb to realise that Kinders had radioed in for emergency backup and the blood was too busy filling his ears for him to hear the murmurings of Two Section that she couldn't have walked far and that they'd find her before he could even say 'cockney'. But he knew either way that they were wrong. His wife had left him twice in a little over 12 hours.

* * *

 _Here lies the body of the love of my life, whose heart I broke without a gun to my head_

* * *

He couldn't remember much of the day following his discovery that his Molly was missing. Without any conscious memory of it, Major James had found himself sitting in Beck's quarters staring at a cold cup of instant coffee on the table in front of him. He could just about make out Beck speaking to him from the sofa opposite him but he could not decipher what he was saying.

"Major James!" On his fourth forceful attempt Charles acknowledged him. The look in his eyes told Beck that he hadn't been ignoring him but was drowning in anxiety. "You should go and get some rest, James. We're doing everything in our power to locate Dawes."

Charles cleared his throat and picked up the white cup, his long fingers making their way round it in a bid to stop them shaking. He had no intention of drinking it. "Have you any updates yet?"

Beck set down his mug and closed his eyes momentarily. "Given the circumstances and the fact I am your superior I should not be indulging such information to you." He met Charles' sad stare. Just as his colleague began to nod slowly in understanding, he spoke quietly. "But as your friend, Charles, I will tell you that witnesses have come forward following assurances that they will be protected by us. They said that they saw 4 men acting suspiciously in the area but they thought little of it as they were dressed in army uniforms. It seems they mistook them for members of Her Majesty's Forces."

Charles could sense there was more. "What else?"

Beck sighed. "They saw two of them shoving a girl into the back of a truck. She wasn't putting up a fight, perhaps unconscious. We have reason to believe it was Molly, Charles."

Charles' brain was jump started into action at the news. They had Molly.

"We need to track down Zemaray's cell, sir. Get Special Forces to locate where they are and secure the area. I'll lead One and Two Sections in for backup and-" He was up and pacing down the room.

"Charles, stop. Everything is under control."

"How the fuck is it under control when my wife isn't inside the walls of Camp Palisade?" The sharpness of his tone took Beck by surprise. "Sorry, sir." He sounded defeated. Sitting down again, Charles tried to compose himself and looked at his boss.

"Major James it is against regulations for you to be involved in this mission. I'm sorry but the circumstances and your state of mind dictate that you will be granted compassionate leave. It is up to you whether or not you want to spend it here or back in the UK." Beck made sure to keep his voice even and clipped. There was no room for argument on this one.

"Sir, with all due respect-"

"I mean it, Charles. I'm sorry. You should go and get some rest, I'll keep you updated on what's happening." The Colonel stood up and stood near his door, indicating it was time for Charles to leave.

"What am I meant to do?" The distraught look on Charles' face suggested that there was more than one meaning of his question. Unsure what to say to comfort his friend, he tried to offer a comforting smile and placed his hand on Charles' shoulder.

"I've recommended you speak to someone, Charles. Just to make sure you're okay."

Rolling his tongue around his mouth in irritation, Charles tugged at the curls on the back of his head in order to stop him saying what he was thinking. Instead, he offered a reserved nod to his boss and walked out of the office, hoping that he hadn't actually slammed the door on his way out like he had imagined.

* * *

 _Ashes to ashes... Dust to side chicks_

* * *

It didn't take long for words to get round the base what had happened in the mountain village. As he walked through the camp, Charles could feel the stares of his colleagues and acquaintances alike while he made his way to his quarters. The pitying looks and the hushed whispers were not lost on him and he was having trouble controlling his temper. His wife wasn't some lost dog or a misplaced belonging worth gossiping about; she was in trouble and he had no clue how to get her back.

"Sir, do you have a moment?" Rachel's voice broke through his hazy conscious just as he was turning the corner down the short path to his quarters.

"Not now, Private Stone." She could hear the warning in his voice.

"I just wanted to say how sorry I am for what has happened to Molly, sir. I sincerely hope that she is alright."

"You're sorry? How fucking good of you." He spat, refusing to stop his pace.

"What are you talking about?" That was the spark Charles needed. He almost bumped into her as he turned around and crossed his arms, feet shoulders length apart. His tense body allied convincingly with his furious expression as his eyes bore into hers. The vein throbbing in his neck made her swallow and take a step back.

"Don't patronise me! Do you realise what you have done?! Not only have you been bullshitting to your friend but you have the cheek to spread inappropriate lies about your superior! Can you get that in your head?" He gestured mockingly at her hair, invading her personal space in indescribable anger. "I don't have time for this fucking nonsense right now, Private Stone, and I suggest you keep away from me for the time being."

"Boss, I'm just trying to-"

"ENOUGH! I don't have time for the games of stupid little girls. Because of your actions the last conservation I had with my wife was not how I would ever want to say goodbye to her and if I don't get a chance to fix that... I will hold you personally responsible for that for the rest of my life, Stone."

Feeling his voice shake and stern mask slip, he clenched his fists and turned on his heel, leaving Rachel standing alone in the dark camp.

"And I will make sure that you never forget what you and your friend did to a Major's marriage." He spat over his shoulder before opening the door to his quarters and slamming it shut behind him.

* * *

 _Now you want to say you're sorry, now you want to call me crying_

* * *

It was without conscious thought that Charles found himself trashing his quarters. Storming straight to his desk, he groaned as he slid everything off it, failing to find solace in the smashing of his glass photo frames and cups. He was too emotional to even notice that he had cut himself on the broken glass and was beginning to bleed.

Moving on to the walls, he tore down the army maps and plans that had been part of the operation to bring down the cell operating in the region and punched the framed photograph he had put up of a drawing of a small aeroplane. What use was it now?

He couldn't put into words the all-consuming guilt he was feeling. Beck could fuck off with his psychiatrist or whoever he had been referred to. Talking to someone would mean he would have to confess how much of an utter fail he was: not only had he singlehandedly ruined his marriage, he had treated his wife like shit since she had got here and he had allowed himself to be distracted by his own actions to realise the answer that was staring him in the face the whole time. Of course Zemaray would resurface somewhere. If he had realised that sooner, Molly would still be here.

And then there was Rachel. He didn't even know why he had let that become the situation that it was but now he had to pay the consequences for that. And the worst part was that, even if he did bring Molly back to him, he wasn't sure she wanted him anymore and he couldn't blame her. Even he couldn't understand or explain himself or why he had done what he'd done... and hadn't done. Everything, in the words of his wife, had turned to shit.

Catching sight of the broken man in the small mirror above his sink, Charles glared at the tears running down his face and the dark circles that had been building throughout the week. It was with disgust that he took himself in. He had failed.

And he'd never forgive himself; he didn't deserve to.

Leaning against the door, the coolness of the metal frame was comforting to his forehead and it was was then for the first time that he allowed himself to really break down.

* * *

 _I pray to the Lord you reveal what his truth is_

* * *

"I just saw the news, Charles. Is everything alright?" A concerned Mrs James was heartbroken at the sight of her son on the computer screen. His blank stare meant that he wasn't really paying much attention to her and she didn't want to mention the mess behind him. Wrapping her dressing gown tightly around her, she waited patiently for her son to reply. His frown line was inherently creased, a habit that had been evident since he was a boy when he was deep in thought. He looked just like a lost child, as vulnerable as Sam when he would fall off his bike and cut his leg.

Finally, her son broke the silence.

"Do you believe in God, mum?" Cathleen James sighed, the irony of the question not being lost on her as her son eyed the crucifix on the wall behind her through the screen.

"Of course I do, Charles. And I hoped you would too after I dragged you and your brother to Church every Sunday!" She wearily tried to inject some humour into the darkness of her son's world but she knew he wasn't really listening to her.

"Because if God's real then why has He let me fuck up two marriages?" That was the first time her son had really looked her in the eye during their FaceTime and she fought hard to blink back the tears that were burning at the back of her eyes.

"You haven't ruined two marriages, Charles. What are you talking about? You and Rebecca had irreconcilable differences. Molly will come back... what has happened her is in no way your fault."

"Isn't it?" His tone was cynical.

"What is this really about, Charles?" She softened hers in response. He shrugged.

"I don't know how to get her back, mum." There was two meanings to this question, one of which she wasn't aware of. He had made a habit of such questions recently.

"They'll find her, Charles. If they're half as brave as you it won't take long."

"I'm not brave, mum." His words hurt more when he remembered Molly saying the exact same thing to him. The pain in his gut was almost crippling.

"Not brave? Tell that to Candy Smyth when you got her son's body back. Tell that to the people whose lives you changed when you toured Afghanistan four times. Tell that to your son who idolises you every minute of every day. Tell that to your wife who needs you to be strong when she can't, Charles."

"I'm tired mum." She could almost slap her son with compassion at his defeated being.

"Get some rest, darling. I love you. Speak to you soon. Keep me updated." She shouted on her husband and they both waved goodbye to their oldest son.

"Goodnight. I will. Love you both too." He clicked off the screen before they could see him fall apart.

Getting onto his knees Charles lent against his bed and placed his palms together, closing his eyes and murmuring softly to whoever was listening.

* * *

 _He only want me when I'm not there, he better call Becky with the good hair_

* * *

It was pitch black when Molly woke up. Even before her eyes adjusted she shrieked at the sharp pain in her side, a sensation only made worse when she instinctively put her hand on it. Dried blood. There was something else not right: she could feel her sleepy figure being watched.

"Hello, Molly." The thick accent scared her and she tried to jump but realised that her hands were handcuffed to a thin pole running around the perimeter of the room. "You can struggle all you want, you're not going to get anywhere." A chuckle came from the figure hiding in the darkness of the room.

"Where am I?" She croaked out.

"What difference does it make? I've waited a very long time for this Molly." Zemaray walked over to her, bent down and cupped her chin roughly in his hand.

"Don't touch me!" He gripped harder.

"I want you to feel the same pain I did when you killed my father and took my sister away from me." With his other hand he punched her abdomen, causing her to roar in pain when he hit the already tender skin on her side.

"You don't scare me, Zemaray."

"So you said." He smiled, standing up and walking over to the other side of the room.

"What are you going to do to me? You do know you don't stand a chance, mate." Molly felt like she was going to vomit in her need for water. She watched as he took a thick cigar out of his pocket and lit it with a match, inhaling and then blowing rings of smoke within a few seconds.

"I like surprises!" He laughed again, picking up the taser gun and spinning it on his index finger confidently.

"Ain't that against yer religion n' all that? Thought you was tryna stop fake Muslims."

"ENOUGH!" He marched over to her and stood over her bruised and battered body, kicking her in the stomach while pointing the taser at her. She stared defiantly back at him, trying desperately to hide just how shit-scared she was. "Is this better?" He instantly removed the cigar from his mouth and pressed it into her wrist that was becoming somewhat raw from the handcuffs, laughing as she screamed and tears fell down her face. He pulled out his phone and videoed her as her body shook from the taser, taking delight in her terror. "You should've listened, Molly Dawes. Or is it Molly James now that you've married that British Army bastard?"

She was almost unconscious when he had finished and left the room.

* * *

 _She sleeps all day, dreams of you in both worlds_

* * *

Minutes turned to hours and hours turned into never ending days as Molly lay in the dark room, crying herself in and out of sleep in-between visits from Zemaray and his friends. She was never awake long enough to try and find out what their plan was. All she knew that she was indescribably hungry and dehydrated.

Sometimes her thoughts turned to the army and she wondered what they were doing to find her. Did they know she had been taken against her will? Had they worked out who had been responsible? She could imagine Two Section being beside themselves with worry and yelling abuse at Beck to put some bloody effort in. Or maybe Charles would be the one yelling?

 _Charles_.

Thinking of him was what hurt the most and any dreams she had of him bursting in and saving her quickly turned into nightmares when she remembered their last conversation.

He didn't want her anymore.

The memories of him sustained her throughout the long days but also hurt her and inflicted her brain with more pain than any physical beatings by Zemaray ever could. Because scars would heal and injuries could be treated but nothing could make her husband love her anymore. She felt almost sick at the thought of Rachel comforting him in his search for her, if he even cared enough anymore to do so. It didn't help that she was being constantly reminded by her captors that no one would find her.

But it still didn't matter. Whenever she was being beat up or mocked or stabbed or burned, it was memories of Charles that she sought safety in. The look he had on his face when she had walked up the aisle. The way his strong arms could comfort her when she felt beyond recovery and hope. His touch. The way he would kiss her when no one was looking, both on tour and when they were with their family and friends.

Even if their love was dead in his eyes, the time they had shared together meant more to her than he would ever know. And although her smiles eventually turned to bone-shaking sobs of pain and hurt, she still felt hope that he would come back to her. Because he always did.

"I love you, Charles." She whispered, instinctively wanting to touch her neck and panicking when she remembered she couldn't feel the cold chain for two reasons. It was when the first tear fell that she remembered she couldn't even wipe them away. She was alone.

* * *

 _Her Heaven would be a love without betrayal_

* * *

 **Hi guys!**

 **Thank you so much for all of your lovely reviews and messages about the last chapter. It feels so good to be back! I was going to leave this chapter to be posted at the weekend but you all made me smile so much that I felt I had to finish it and post it :)**

 **Poor Molly and CJ! People do desperate things when they are hurting and I hope you all enjoyed his rant at Rachel, even if it was miles away from the composed Captain we all know and love!**

 **A little driving update: I can now somewhat navigate roundabouts! They are bloody terrifying but I'm getting there. However, it does piss me off when people don't indicate so I have so idea whether or not I can go!**

 **30th October was my 2 year anniversary of posting 'Pumpkins', my first Our Girl fanfic. Thank you for an incredible 2 years and here's to many more!**

 **See you soon and thank you for everything! Feel free to leave a review, they motivate me to post on days I'm finding it hard and tired.**

 **Love always,**

 **Sarah xx**

 **P.S. It'll stop being so doom and gloom soon - hang in there!**


	7. Emptiness (6 Inch Heels)

**EMPTINESS (6 INCH HEELS)**

* * *

 _God was in the room when the man said to the woman, 'I love you so much!'_

* * *

 ** _A COUPLE OF YEARS EARLIER..._**

"What made you join up?" Charles' voice broke the comfortable silence as he idly ran his fingers through Molly's hair. They were both lying on a picnic blanket enjoying the warm summer rays of Bath's sunshine in his back garden and had that unmistakable post-meal glow of sleepiness. He smirked as her eyelashes flickered in annoyance as she was about to fall asleep.

"Are you takin' the piss?" She murmured quietly before burying her face further in his side.

"Nope. Tell me!" He kissed her lightly on the chin, tickling her until she finally relented in the midst of her giggles.

"FINE! Fine!" Charles smiled at her laugh, thinking her happiness was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He sat up and pulled her on his lap, planting feather kisses in her hair.

"Saw a poster on me 18th, didn't I? Was bein' sick outside some army recruitment office in my six inch heels and thought I could do something with me life that didn't involve killing my hair with bleach and doin' some knobhead's nails."

"You were blonde?" Molly didn't miss the twinkle in his eye as he tried to suppress a laugh. "I need to see those pictures!" At the horrified look on her face he roared with laughter, ducking his head out of the way of her playful slap.

"Piss off!" She couldn't help but laugh and then turned her attention back to him. "What about you?"

"What about me?" He challenged her playfully.

"What made you sign up, golden boy?" She stuck her tongue out.

"It's all I've ever known or wanted, I guess. I always admired my dad and thought it was the coolest job in the world..." Molly could see a bashful blush make its way up the Captain's face. She reached up and kissed his cheek before smiling shyly at him. He was adorable.

"But now I think I want something else, my dearest Molly." She acted innocent.

"And what would that be?" Suddenly he leaned back on the blanket again and was pulling her with him, making her scream with delight before wrapping her arms around his neck. He moved his lips to her ear and breathed softly, "You. I love you."

* * *

 _Loss. Dear moon, we blame you for floods... for the flush of blood..._

* * *

Major James sat on the roof of the shitter nursing a now-cold mug of coffee in his hands. He wasn't sure how long he had been there; perhaps not even thirty minutes, perhaps hours. One thing he was aware of was that the general noise of Camp Palisade had gradually faded throughout his sitting and it seemed to be uncharacteristically empty. It most likely had been hours then, he mused.

He wasn't sure what made him sit here. Perhaps it was for a moment of peace; his quarters in recent days had become somewhat of a social hub, with his waking hours being spent accompanied by the pitying faces of Her Majesty's forces trying to express their sympathies. The fact that Two Section felt personally responsible for her disappearance was also weighing on his mind and, although they most certainly meant well, he didn't have it in him to carry the grief of six other men at the moment.

However, Charles knew why he was really sitting there. It felt like a lifetime ago that he had sat on this same roof with Molly who had been completely captivated by the beauty above her. If he turned to his right, he could almost see her small frame beside him holding his hand.

With hindsight, the Major was able to see that their conversation was the beginning of when it all tuned to shit. He could remember the wariness on her face, the tiredness in her eyes as she declined his attempts to make up for the distance their time in Iraq had put between them.

 _"Do you want to sleep with me tonight?" He raised his eyebrows humorously, both knowing full well that he didn't mean what it sounded like – they were not completely blind to the regulations._

 _"Nah, I can't sorry. Promised Jackie I'd help out durin' the mornin' shift tomorrow cause they're understaffed, not with the operation you're on tomorrow and all. Hope it goes well."_

He had continued to sit there alone for nearly an hour just looking at the moon. He smiled bitterly to himself. Charles had a longstanding history with the mysterious man in the sky.

When Molly had first returned from her second tour in Afghan, she would wake up in the middle of the night, haunted by the horrors she saw; things that are unspeakable to everyone other than the people you know will understand; the ones that have seen them too. Whenever Charles would turn over in bed and feel the coldness of the sheets and not the warmth of her body, he could normally find her sitting on a bench in the back garden nursing a cup of tea and looking very much as Charles did now: scared, exhausted and alone.

Every night he would open the sliding glass door quietly and sit beside her, wrapping his dressing gown around her shoulders. They could stay like that for hours. On one particular night they had sat and watched the sunset together, laughing with each other when they realised how long they had been outside.

Charles could almost hear her giggle in the light wind but, when he cocked his head to his right again, Molly wasn't there. And, for the first time ever, he didn't know where to find her.

* * *

 _... For men who are also wolves. We blame_ _you for the night, for the dark, for the ghosts; every fear, every nightmare anyone has ever had_

* * *

"Sir, you might want to see this..." Captain Holloway nodded with his head towards the HD screen in the ops room.

"This better be good, Holloway. I was sleeping." Beck grumbled, rubbing his eyes and drinking his thermal mug of coffee.

"Apologies, boss, but this is important." He wasn't sorry at all but knew it was too early in the morning (or was it still technically night at this ungodly hour?) to piss off his superior.

"What's it about?" The Lieutenant Colonel stood in front of the screen as he tapped his fingers impatiently around his mug.

"Lance Corporal Dawes. We have proof of life, sir. Watch this."

Beck watched the screen intently, his face emotionless as he took in the images in front of him.

"British Army!" The heavy Afghan accent was instantly recognisable but its deliverer was hiding on the black screen. "We have one of your soldiers! It is important that you listen to our demands..."

Molly suddenly appeared on the screen. She was in a dark room, most probably a cell, with very little light. Her hands were tied together as she sat in the corner shivering, the terror in her doll-like eyes evident even in the low quality video.

Beck continued to watch as two masked men attacked her pale body as she tried to kick them away. Her screams muffled by the tape over her mouth seemed to be egging them on as they beat, kicked and burned her. They were torturing her.

"THOSE FUCKING ANIMALS!" Beck roared when the video came to an end. Captain Holloway was visibly shaken by the outburst of his superior but even he was heavily affected by the images he saw.

"Get Special Forces on that now. I want to know where it came from and when it came. Get those men identified."

"Yes, sir." Holloway immediately lifted up the phone and selected Line One to summon the intelligence team.

"This isn't a kidnapping. This is a fucking war!" Beck muttered under his breath as he made way his out of the Ops Tent, his mind too busy to go back to sleep.

"Is everything okay?" The figure of Charles James emerged out of the darkness as Beck decided what to do with himself. Even in the blackness of night Beck could make out the circles under his eyes and his pale complexion. He looked notably thinner and his hair was uncombed. When his boss continued to stare at him, Charles' hoarse voice broke the silence. "Is it Molly?" The feeling of her name slipping off his tongue made his heart sink. Something was wrong.

"James, you shouldn't be doing this at this hour. Get some rest-"

"Is it my wife?" Charles persisted, his hands crossing across his chest as he strode forward. His eyes were defeated but his character definitely wasn't; not yet.

Beck nodded and swallowed. Finally, he lifted his head up and looked the younger man in the eye. "There's been a development, yes. I'm not sure if I'm allowed-"

"I'm asking you as a friend, Beck." Charles visibly sighed as he prepared to turn on his heel and walk away.

"Molly's still alive, Charles. We've received proof of life. That's all I can tell you."

He could make out the shininess of his friend's eyes as he spoke. Seeing the hint of a smile on Charles' lips illuminated by the door lamp of the Ops Tent, he watched as the Major nodded and walked away.

* * *

 _She's too smart to crave material things, she's pushing herself day and night; she grinds from Monday to Friday and works from Friday to Sunday_

* * *

"So how did you meet your wife?" Dr Carter tried again. Under Beck's recommendation, it was decided that Major James had to speak to someone in order to help him through Molly's disappearance. They had been sitting in the small room for ten minutes and Charles was thoroughly uninterested in the woman in front of him, instead choosing to sit resting his head on his left hand as he looked out the small window of the medical centre onto the camp outside.

"Major James!" Charles turned immediately to meet the concerned face of the woman. It was the first time he had really looked at her. Her red hair was tied up in a simple pony tail and she was looking at him over her black glasses. The angry tone that had just resounded around the cupboard-like room did not belong to her kind face and she immediately cleared her throat and looked down again at her notes, a rosy blush rising up her cheeks. She clearly wasn't used to working with her superiors.

"Look, sir, I know you don't want to be here but it's for the best if you cooperate with me." She looked at him until she recognised the faint nod of his head as he averted his gaze to behind her head. Charles sighed.

"Sorry... this isn't really my thing." He tried to smile but it appeared on his face as more of a grimace.

"It says here that you met your wife when she was deployed to your section when you were Captain. What was she like?" Dr Carter tried to lighten the Major's mood by referring to what she hoped were happy memories. She smiled when he snorted softly down his nose.

"She was loud. Annoying. I thought she was trouble the moment I saw her... I was wrong, of course, but Molly isn't the best at first impressions." He laughed but it didn't quite reach his eyes and he immediately held his wedding ring subconsciously. "I always tell her that she'll have me turning grey before I'm 40!" His laughter died down when he realised what he was saying was true but not a the way he ever thought possible. He returned his gaze to the window.

"So is isn't like that now?" Her face was welcoming and Charles gave her the benefit of the doubt. She was only doing her job, but she did seem to genuinely care about what he had to say.

"No," he cleared his throat and looked down at his lap. "She's incredible. She's hardworking, funny, unbelievably intelligent..." This was too much.

"How has your mood been, Major?" She didn't miss the rolling of his eyes as his finger began to absently rub his bottom lip.

"Fucking fantastic." Charles was clearly getting agitated and the small confines of the room were making him nervous. He wanted to get out. _'Is this how Molly feels?'_ He thought.

"Sir, it's okay to be depressed. It's understandable that you're showing symptoms of-"

 _'Fuck this!'_ Charles' long stride meant that he was at the door within two seconds and his hand was on the handle when an imposing shout broke into his messy frame of mind.

"MAJOR JAMES SIT DOWN! In this room I am your superior and you are under my chain of command. Sit back down. I want to help you." She softened her voice as she watched his broad shoulders deflate. When he turned around he was visibly shaking.

And that's when she understood.

Major Charles James wasn't trying to be rude or show lack of respect for her position, no; the incredibly handsome looking man in front of her was broken. His hand immediately reached to tug at the curls on the back of his neck - a behaviour she immediately recognised as one of comfort. He didn't know what to do. He was scared.

Charles opened his eyes and looked at her; really looked at her. His eyes were filling with tears.

"Look," he swallowed. "I'm not 'mad' and I'm not a charity case. I'm sick of all the fucking looks of pity I've been victim to for the last week..." Dr Carter simply nodded as she instantly realised he didn't want her, or anyone, to speak. His thoughts were too loud.

"I'm not mad. I feel immense guilt because I couldn't protect my wife when she needed me most and I know I'm the only person that can save her. I'm not mad, doctor. I'm indescribably sad but my brain isn't 'fragged', as my wife would say. I just want to help her... please." A stray tear ran down his face but Charles didn't even lift his finger to wipe it away. His eyes were pleading with her and he slowly walked back to the soft chair that she was indicating to quietly with her head.

"Let me help you, Charles," he sat down in silence and nodded his head willingly for the first time since he walked into the cramped psychiatric office. "Let me help you."

* * *

 _I'll make you feel you always come back to me..._

* * *

"And so your professional judgement is that Major James is fit to return to work?" Beck's expression was puzzled as he stared at the middle aged doctor in front of him. It had been a week since her first appointment with Charles and they had continued their daily sessions in order to give him the best possible chance for his review meeting. Beck drummed his fingers, deep in thought.

"Yes, sir. I have been evaluating him over the last 7 sessions and I think he has made tremendous progress. It would do him good to have something to do around here since he won't fly back to England. And he knows Dawes - he could be of use to you." Dr Carter struggled at times to believe her own words but, whenever those doubts appeared, she immediately remembered the pleading look on James' face that day he tried to storm out of her office.

 _"I don't need your compassion or your pity, Dr Carter," he had murmured almost to himself as he sat back down on the chair. "I just need your understanding."_

"I don't know, Doctor. It's against all kinds of regulations. His emotional involvement is fundamentally dangerous to the recovery of Lance Corporal Dawes."

"At least let him prove you right if that is the case. Sir, I strongly recommend that you give him something doing to do. Anything." The Lieutenant Colonel sighed and considered Carter's words. James had proved himself capable of detaching himself from any emotional involvement many times before; hell, he had developed strong feelings in Afghanistan for Molly without Beck having any hint of an idea.

He closed his eyes and soothingly rubbed his temples, exhaling slowly before standing up and heading to the door of his office. Pausing, he said quietly, "You better be right, Carter." He opened the door and summoned Charles into the office where he had been waiting outside. Before the taller man had a chance to salute, Beck smiled weakly and requested that he take a seat. Charles looked at Dr Carter, trying to guess from her expression what the verdict of this meeting would be. However, ever the army doctor, her face was void of any expression.

"How are you, James?" Beck paid careful attention to the exhaustion written on the Major's face. Despite his evident tan, the dark circles underneath his eyes were blatantly obvious, as was the way his uniform was a tiny bit looser than normal around his arms. He didn't look well.

"I'm fine thank you, Sir." His tone was short and clipped.

"Carter tells me that she thinks you're fit to return to work. What is your opinion on this, Major?"

James nodded. "I would like that very much, sir. I'm of no use sulking about the camp. I need to be doing something." Beck made a noise of agreement and looked out the window, taking in the activities of the soldiers outside. Attacks hadn't been very frequent in the village recently. He was torn.

 _'Fuck it,' he thought._

"I'm prepared to make you a deal, James." He could have laughed at the way both he and Carter leaned forward. "I'm well aware that your previous encounters with Zemaray and your knowledge of him would be of incredible value in the search for Lance Corporal Dawes. In light of Dr Carter's glowing report of you, I am prepared to look beyond your obvious emotional involvement with the case and let you assist us in our enquiries."

"Thank you, sir!" Charles' cheek muscles ached immediately when he smiled; it felt like he hadn't done so in a long time.

"But, and I mean but, for the time being you will be based solely in the camp and the moment I sense that you are getting too emotionally involved you will be removed from the operation. And I trust your professional judgement to know when the operation is having too much of a psychological impact on you and I trust that you will remove yourself from the situation as soon as it does. Is that understood?"

"Absolutely, sir. I won't let you down. Thank you, I mean it!"

Dr Carter was dismissed some time after that and Charles remained in Beck's office for over an hour being filled in on all of the intelligence they had gathered and all of the leads they had.

Charles was glad when he was dismissed from the stuffy office and breathed a sigh of relief when he returned into cool air of his own quarters. Taking in his shattered appearance in the mirror above his sink, he murmured to himself, _"Stay focused, stay alert, stay alive, James."_

He just hoped and prayed that Molly could hold on a little while longer until he could get to her.

* * *

 _... So come back?_

* * *

Molly couldn't stop shaking when the metal door to her prison opened and a hooded figure appeared with a tiny plate of food. Molly watched as he threw down a quarter of a slice of bread and laughed when she couldn't catch it in her handcuffs. As he was about to leave, she croaked out, "May I have water, please? I haven't had a drink for four days!" She visibly winced at the rawness she felt in her throat with every syllable. Before she knew it, the figure had marched straight back across the room, bent down and had grabbed her roughly by the hair to make her look at him.

"We don't care about you, you stupid bitch! Nobody cares about you! Haven't you wondered why your precious army haven't come to rescue you? They don't care and they won't find you. They'll never find you!" The accent was too strong to be that of Zemaray but the coldness of its tone was chilling all the same. If she had the energy, Molly was sure she would've started balling.

The man punched a bruising blow to her chin and then walked out of the room. Molly felt the tears rising with every bolthole she heard lock on the thick metal door and tried her best to hug her knees even closer into her aching chest.

She couldn't ignore the fact that something was gnawing at her and telling her that he was right.

That's when the tears started to fall once again.

* * *

 **Hi everyone!**

 **I'm so sorry once again for the delay in this chapter and I cannot thank you all enough for your patience, messages of support and understanding. Life has been crazy lately and I've had pretty bad writer's block to go along with it :( But I celebrated my 18th in December (I was like 15 when I started writing Silent Witness FF - how crazy!), I applied to University and I finished my A Level mocks on Friday. I hope you've all been well :)**

 **I'm hoping to do at least weekly updates from now on but please bear with me until I get back into the swing of things (aka get used to having a life that does not revolve around revision for a few weeks!). I'm sorry if this chapter is a little boring, but the next one has been the one I have been excited to write since I thought of this story. 'Lemonade', the short film that inspired this story, is based on various emotional chapters serving as interludes to the songs and so far we've had Intuition, Denial, Anger, Apathy and now Emptiness. The next stage is Accountability if that gives you any clues ;) And I expect it will be a very long chapter! I hope you don't mind.**

 **Thank you for all of your support and I am genuinely sorry that I am such a useless updater. Please continue to leave reviews and message me like you always do - it honestly makes my day and motivates me beyond belief! I love you all and here's to an incredible 2017!**

 **Lots of love ALWAYS,**

 **Sarah xxx**


	8. Accountability and Daddy Lessons

**ACCOUNTABILITY AND DADDY LESSONS**

* * *

 _You find the black tube inside her beauty case where she keeps your father's old prison letters. You desperately want to look like her. You look nothing like you mother; you look everything like your mother…_

* * *

 _'_ _Tell me about him?'_

In the darkness of her cell it was almost as if Molly could hear Charles' voice. Feel him. Touch him. She found that the only thing that could sustain her were her memories of him, of their life, and she had spent the last two weeks trying to remember every second.

They had been making the three-hour drive back to Bath after visiting Molly's family a couple of days before Christmas. The darkness and blizzard-like snow pouring down and around the window was the perfect setting to match the mood in the car, as Molly had spent the journey staring out the window lost in thought. Right before they had left, Charles had noticed Molly and her father walking into the kitchen and closing the door lightly behind them, before Molly violently slammed it less than five minutes later.

 _'_ _Tell you about who?'_

She had been buying time. They both knew it. Charles simply stared ahead and let her words hang in the air, knowing that she would talk when she was ready.

And that was it.

She had told him everything; about when she was eleven and had gone round to a mate's house with makeup on for the first time, and how she had felt like the most beautiful girl in the world until she heard her dad shouting at her mum for making her look like a tart wearing that cheap shit from the market and embarrassing him. And then she told him about the time he had slapped her for refusing to fund his drinking and give him the fiver she had won off her mates at school for their bet on how long it would take for the new teacher to quit their shithole (she giggled half-heartedly at it being 3 hours). Molly also told him about how her dad had made her mum disown her because she refused to marry Artan, at which Charles' grip on the steering wheel seemed to tighten ever so slightly.

And then the time she had snuck into her parents' room when Dave had just got out of prison for fraud, and Molly had been playing with her mum's good lipstick her nan had got from the posh shop in town. She could remember just finishing applying it to her bottom lip when she heard it.

She wasn't sure if she didn't know what it was, or whether she did know but just didn't want to accept it.

The thud.

When she had heard the door slam, Molly crept quietly down the stairs to work out where her mum was. Then she heard the soft whimper coming from the kitchen, and opened the door to find her mum clutching her bleeding forehead and the kitchen table on its side, plates everywhere.

She was eleven.

Molly wasn't sure how it happened, but before she knew it they were no longer on the motorway and Charles wrapped her in his arms, his forehead bathing her in kisses. Safe. Soft.

And she could almost feel them now.

* * *

 _How to wear your mother's lipstick: your mother is a woman, and women like her cannot be contained. Mother dearest, let me inherit the Earth. Teach me how to make him beg. Let me make up for the years he made you wait. Did he make you forget your own name? **Am I talking about your husband or your father?**_

* * *

Molly hissed in pain as she turned over on her battered and bruised side, trying to choke back the tears at the thought of her poor mum back in that poxy house worrying out of her mind.

 _'I always knew you'd break the curse, Molls!'_ Belinda had cheekily winked in the mirror as she helped Molly put the white veil amongst her wavy brunette locks. She grinned when Molly's eyes met hers in the reflection.

 _'What you on about, mum?'_ Molly laughed at the concentration on Belinda's face as she poked about with those brown hair clip things that she always lost and would find weeks later around her and Charles' bedroom; or, alternatively, when Charles would stab his foot on one accidentally in the middle of the night and curse the bloody things into next week.

 _'Awk, darlin', you know. Always knew you was destined for bigger things than me, eh!'_ She nudged her daughter gently to lighten the mood. It had suddenly got very serious.

Molly met her eyes again and felt those wedding-day butterflies swimming about in her stomach once again. _'Why did you marry him, mum? After everything he did, why did you stay with him?'_

Belinda placed the veil down on the dressing table and sat down gently beside her daughter on the leather stool, playing absentmindedly with a hairpin in her hands. She blinked back her tears and then looked at Molly with a watery, sad smile.

 _'Because, as hard as it is to imagine, the way you feel about Charles is the way I once felt about that muppet out there. I still do, most of the time. Oh Molls, your dad drives me flamin' nuts and I curse his damn name all day long, but love is about appreciating the good in someone. He hasn't had a drink for over two weeks, Molls. Swears it's the end of it.'_

 _'I don't want a life like that. What if I end up like you, mum?'_ Molly felt a tear stray down her made-up face and reached for one of the posh tissues on the dressing table, trying her best not to ruin the makeup she'd had spent a small fortune on specially. _'Oh, Molls, come 'ere you!'_ Belinda pulled her into her chest, careful not to sit on the dress, and ran her fingers soothingly through the soft waves.

 _'Molly, baby, you listen to me. Charlie is a good bloke, and you know he'd never, ever do anything to hurt you. You've already proved that you're nothing like me, and I know Charles would never, ever treat you how your dad treated me. Darlin', there will be hard times, you know that. But you'll both get through them, and in the end love is all that matters. Me an' your dad love each other in our own way. We work as we are. I'm so proud of you, Molls; we both are. Come 'ere, let's get you all fixed up, yeah? You've got a Captain to marry!'_ She handed Molly another tissue and dabbed gently at her eyes before applying some powder to her tear-stained face - it was the best she could do now that the makeup artist had left.

 _'Sorry, mum, you set me off!'_ Molly laughed heartily and embraced Belinda before standing up and looking at herself in the mirror. _Deep breaths._

 _'You and Charlie will always be okay, Molls. I promise. Now, are you ready? Let's go!'_ Mother and daughter walked slowly out of the room and met Dave at the bottom of the stairs in the James family home in Bath.

 _'Thanks, mum.'_ She whispered as her climbed into the car, squeezing her hand tightly.

* * *

 _You go somewhere no one can find you_

* * *

But _this_ was Molly's reality now. She ran her fingers over the fresh wound on her side and held up her fingers to the little light that came through the tiny window to see how much blood she was losing. It dripped off her finger trips.

'I need medical attention!' she tried to cough out of her raw throat, but it protested, having not had water for over 3 days. Molly eyed the cat-sized bowl of water that had been left just out of her reach. Upon her fourth attempt to try and move closer to it, she frantically began to shake her chains in tears.

'What the fuck do you think you're doing?' A man's voice could be heard through the door as he unlocked it, obviously pissed off about the noise she was making.

'I haven't had a drink in days, please just give me something.' Molly begged, trying to kick her legs at his tall frame. When the man laughed, her kicks and screams became more violent as she fought to free herself and reach the bowl.

'Boss, get in here! The army whore is saying she'll drink anything...' his laughter boomed around the empty cell and Molly began to shuffle back into the corner, slamming her chains forcibly against the stone wall.

'Don't you fucking touch me!' She muttered under her breath when the man came closer and playfully lifted a lock of her hair.

'Boss, she's a feisty one!' The heavy accent wasn't enough to disguise his malicious tone, and its thickness intensified when another man appeared. Before Molly could understand what was happening, the new man grabbed her forcefully by the chin and yanked her to her unsteady feet.

Molly didn't need him to take off his mask or to even talk. She knew it was Zemaray from the way he walked into the room. His commanding presence made her feel sick.

'Ah, Molly, wouldn't this be easier if you would just play along?' He pretended to run a finger along her bruised and cut cheekbone before punching her right in the mouth, causing her to fall back in pain. He lifted her up forcibly by her hair once again.

Molly lifted her finger to her bloodied mouth and yelped in pain. 'What do you want from me? If it's Bashira, there's no way in hell you're getting to her.'

Zemaray laughed and punched her in the ribs. 'That's where you're wrong, my pretty girl.'

* * *

'Is everything okay, sir?' The tired eyes of Major James met Beck's across the wooden desk, having been summoned to his superior's office. Uncharacteristically, Charles recognised that his boss was uncomfortable, and had he been in a better state of mind he probably would have laughed at him somewhat squirming in his seat and playing with a pen between his fingers.

'Drop the 'sir', Charles,' He offered a small smile before leaning forward and putting his hands together. 'I have something to tell you.'

Charles looked up immediately. 'What is it? Is it Molly?' Suddenly the spacious office - well, by army camp standards - seemed claustrophobic. Was that why he was uncomfortable? Had something happened? Had Molly… he wanted to leave. Making his way towards the door, he was about to touch the handle when Beck's voice boomed from his chair.

'Major James, sit your bottom on that fucking chair and listen to me.' The strained glint in his eye served to reassure Charles that he wasn't about to tell him his wife was dead. Sheepishly, Charles lowered himself back into the seat and nodded.

'Sorry, sir.'

'There's been a development, James. Well, two.' He picked up the black pen again and lowered his gaze, not wishing to meet the stare of Major James. 'The insurgents holding Lance Corporal Dawes have made contact. We're running out of time… so we need to act.'

The man under his chain of command threw his head back in frustration and sighed. 'And how the fuck are we going to act when we don't know anything?'

'That's where you're wrong, Charles. The thing is… Special Forces were asked to join the hunt for your wife and they believe they know where she is. They are not one hundred percent certain, but we need to act fast.'

'How fast?' Charles swallowed.

'The operation is taking place in a few hours… and we need your help.'

'I will do anything, sir.' The intensity of Charles' determined stare forced Beck to look down at the mission brief on his desk. Sighing, he focused on the painting hanging on the wall behind Charles' head.

'When they return from the compound I will need you to identify Zemaray, as outside of Two Section you are the only other person who has ever eyeballed him to the degree that would provide certainty as to his identity.'

Any hope that Charles had felt had now been exchanged for anger. 'So I'm not going with them?' He clenched his fists in his palms.

'I don't think it would be appropriate given the circumstances, Major James. I'm sorry.'

'I disagree.'

'I'm sorry?'

'Sir, I'm not trying to undermine your decision or your authority, but with all due respect surely it would make more sense for me to be on the mission? I have experienced with Zemaray and his men and the tricks they play; hell, I've got the scar to prove it. I'm not asking to lead the mission; I just want to be there.'

'Charles, surely you know that your involvement is against basically every bloody regulation there is.' He could see his point.

The Major simply raised his eyebrow and rolled his tongue around his mouth. Molly always said he could sulk for England and could serve Her Majesty pretty bleeding well by doing so. _Jesus, he's good_ , thought Beck. After a few seconds silence, Beck dramatically sighed and fixed Charles with an authoritative glare.

'You are there simply to eyeball Zemaray and provide intelligence, do you understand? You will not be directly involved in any fighting that may occur and the minute you become too involved I trust that Kinders will send you back to base in one of those bloody trucks. I'm putting my neck on the line for you here. Don't fuck this up. Go and get your wife, Charles.'

Both men stood and shook hands, with Charles muttering his thanks over and over. Finally, he saluted and walked out of the room.

 _Go and get your wife, Charles._

* * *

 _My daddy warned me about men like you; he said, 'baby girl, he's playing you'_

* * *

'I'm not wrong about Bashira, she's safe. You can't touch her.' Molly spat out from her bloodied mouth, glaring at the masked figure of Zemaray as he gripped her face with an increasing intensity.

He threw his head back and laughed. 'No, you stupid girl, I'm not talking about Bashira… my sister is dead to me now, after she chose you British and the Americans over her own family. She is an infidel.' He kicked Molly's ribs with every syllable of the last word.

'Then what is it you want?' Any confidence Molly had was quickly draining away. God, she was exhausted.

Zemaray stroked her face again and tucked a stray piece of her filthy hair - from the dried blood from her facial injuries - behind her bruised ear. Molly felt repulsed. 'Oh, you silly British whore. We just want to use you, that's all. But it seems your friends aren't playing ball.'

'The army will be looking for me as we speak. You won't be able to keep this up much longer, will you?' She snarled.

'Won't we? The government has already said they are not going to negotiate with us, Molly. They've all abandoned you.'

Molly fiercely blinked back the tears that she could feel forming in the back of her eyes as the man spoke the words she had dreaded most. Deep inside, she knew very well that the British did not negotiate with terrorists and, seeing as Zemaray wanted to use her as a hostage, there was nothing the British army could do to stop him. She'd never see any of them again. She'd never see Charles again. She shook her head. 'You're wrong. They won't leave me behind. They've beat you once and they'll beat you again.' He yanked her by her hair and forced her onto her knees, slapping her across the face.

'You a Major's wife now, aren't you? Don't look so shocked, I know all about you Molly. You killed my father saving him. But he won't be able to repay the favour, will he? He's left you here. He doesn't care, Molly. He can't care.' Zemaray knew that Molly was on the verge of tears and he was enjoying every second of it. He laughed as a tear fell down her cheek and he caught it mockingly with his thumb.

'He hasn't left me here.' Even to her, her tearful voice sounded pathetic. He couldn't be speaking the truth. Despite everything that had happened over the last few months, Molly still held on to the belief that Charles loved her just as much as she loved him.

But what if he didn't? He had made it pretty clear to her that he regretted marrying her, and didn't want her anymore. Why was she kidding herself? Thinking back on those conversations hurt just as much now as it did when they happened. She could still feel her heart sinking in her chest, and the heavy lump that formed and seemed to paralyse her both mentally and physically.

 _"I've been thinking all night about this, I couldn't sleep at all. I think that.." He stopped and turned around, almost pleading at her with his eyes once again to understand without making him have to speak. But she didn't follow._

 _"You think what?" Molly was quickly becoming scared. This couldn't be_ _it_ _, surely?_

 _Charles James turned towards the window again and looked out. He couldn't look at her._

 _"I think that we should lead separate lives, Molly," He spoke in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper._

 _"What?" It took her a few moments to understand. She could feel the tears burn at the back of her eyes which she furiously blinked away._

He didn't want this anymore. He didn't want her.

'Take off her chains. I think it's time we had some fun, don't you, Molly?' She started shaking and retreating further back into the corner as the other man moved closer and unlocked the chains around her arms and ankles. Just as Zemaray was about to bend down, another figure came running through the door.

'BOSS! Boss! Come and see this, quick! Abdullah and the men have picked up something on the radar…' The panic in his voice was enough to force Zemaray and the other man to fly out of the room behind him, with the former shouting orders as they did so.

Molly closed her eyes and focused on calming herself down. Breathe in. Breathe out.

When she finally opened them again, she stared down at the clammy hands that were beginning to feel cold due to her hunger. Looking up, she couldn't understand why her cell was suddenly so bright.

But then she saw it.

The door was wide open.

* * *

 _With his gun and his head held high, he told me not to cry_

* * *

Charles could not ignore the awkward silence and pitying stares of Two and Three Section as he walked into the mission briefing taking place in one of the larger tents in Camp Palisade. After acknowledging Beck's nod of approval, the Major tried his best to stride confidently to the front where he joined Beck, Captain Kinders and Elvis in addressing the serious faces of the troops sitting before them. 'At ease, lads.' Elvis stepped forward first and cleared his throat.

'We have received intelligence that suggests Lance Corporal Dawes is being held in this compound here,' Elvis pointed to the grainy image of the stone buildings on the board. 'which is held by forces that have pledged allegiance to IS. Special Forces will storm the compound with the intention of clearing the area and determining if the primary is there. If she is, we will retrieve her and our overhead support will immediately medevac her out of the area as quickly as possible. We will arrive at the compound just one hour before sundown. Kinders?'

Eggy stood forward and addressed his platoon, 'Lads, we will be supporting Special Forces in this mission by securing the compound and capturing as many insurgents alive as possible. If Zemaray escapes, the information they have will be invaluable to us. There is every chance that they will try and escape with the primary, but we will be prepared and we will take all and any action necessary to prevent that from happening. Listen to us – they've got one of our own, one you are all very close to. This is war, men. And we've got to win. Any questions?'

After giving his usual speech about protocol and the vitality of the mission they were about to undertake, Beck turned towards Charles, much to his surprise. 'Do you want to say a few words, Major James?'

Charles sincerely hoped that Beck hadn't noticed the panic rising in his chest as he zoned out and thought about Molly. What was she going through? Would they find her?

Was she even still alive?

Holding his helmet against his hip, he nodded and stepped forward hesitantly. Meeting the concerned eyes of Two Section, he raised his head and began to speak.

'I'm sure you're all aware of just how important this mission is, and it goes without saying that this mission holds incredible significance for me on a personal level as well. There's nothing I can say to downplay it. But the one thing I want to tell you is this: Lance Corporal Dawes is one of our own, and she is being held by men who hate everything we, the British Army of Her Majesty the Queen, stand for. Let's not let them win. It has been the honour of my life to serve with all of you, and being your Major is one of my greatest achievements. But tonight, I am standing with you. Alongside you. And we're going to win.'

Just as Two Section stood up to clap, Charles smiled sadly. 'One more thing. Dawes would never forgive me if I didn't remind you… please stay focused, stay alert and stay alive. Now let's go get her!' With that, he walked out of the tent with a determination and fire he had lacked over the last few weeks.

Just as Charles was about to climb into one of the trucks two hours later, he heard Fingers holler his name and the Major walked over to him with a questioning expression.

'I just wanted to say, Bossman, we won't let you down. We're going to get our girl back.' Stunned at the poignancy of his words, Charles simply smiled and patted him on the back before fixing his headset in place and following Two Section up the truck's steps.

* * *

 _Daddy liked his whiskey with his tea, and daddy made a soldier out of me_

* * *

Molly stared at the open doorway. She knew this wasn't a trap – the blazing evening sun did not cast any shadows outside her cell and the raised voices were coming from the small office in the building yards from her.

Timidly, Molly pushed her hands against the walls in the corner she was sitting in, and quietly groaned in her determination to stand up. After several attempts, she rose and steadied herself on the bars that barricaded the small window. Her shaking legs were doing little to hold her body weight up and she tentatively walked small steps, carefully paying attention to the voices she could hear.

Just as the door came into reach, she froze.

How could she escape? The chances of her succeeding were fuck all. And anyway, what would she even do if she did? Where would she go? Zemaray's words were still echoing in her head and her chest was painfully tight at the realisation the army would not be coming to save her because the government would not negotiate with terrorists. And then there was Charles.

What sort of life would she lead if she returned? He didn't want her. Was it even worth escaping? Living a life where she would see him every day but he would no longer be hers was more painful than any of the physical blows this group of cowards could inflict on her. And to be honest, she was so fucking scared. Her body was so weak; her head was so hazy. It was as if she had been sentenced to death and was waiting on death row; her body was slowly shutting down and there was nothing she could do to stop it from doing so.

But then she remembered.

 _I'm not brave," She whispered through a fresh wave of tears. "I just wanted to impress you; impress her. I'm shit scared. I can't get a calmness in me nut. When I saw Kinders lying there I panicked, all I could see was Smurf and I felt helpless."_

 _Charles put his finger under her chin and turned her so she was facing him. His thumb rested on her cheekbone, ready to catch any tears that fell. The look in his eyes reminded Molly so much of the night he had held her in the hospital in Afghanistan after Sohail died._

 _"Molly, you are braver than you will ever know. You have a medal to prove it! You never, never need to try and impress me because I love you. I loved you then, I love you now and I'll love you always. Please don't ever forget that." He took a deep breath and chuckled shyly._

She is a soldier – the bleeding nuts as a medic. And she was brave.

No matter how much it hurt, she owed it to herself to make peace with Charles. She wanted to know why he had ended it, and why it had ended up this way. She owed herself closure, and she sure as hell couldn't bear the thought of dying without seeing him again; without touching him again… even if it was for only one last time.

This could be her only chance to see him again and she needed to take it.

Ignoring the sharp pain that flashed through her body with every inhalation of breath, she crept towards the door. Glancing out, the office door was shut tightly and the men were yelling harshly at each other.

With one final deep breath, Molly walked tentatively out of her cell and balanced herself by placing one of her shaking hands on the wall.

Then she ran.

* * *

 _He told me when he's gone here's what to do: 'When trouble comes in town and men like me come around,' my daddy said, 'Shoot'_

* * *

She wasn't sure how long she had been running for. The deterioration of her body meant that she felt like she was flying with every stride, and the light breeze threatened to blow her over. Even her eyes hurt due to her sudden exposure to daylight. She felt like she would collapse the moment she slowed down, but there was something that kept her from giving up.

But it wasn't long before she heard shouting coming from the compound behind her as she headed for the stream less than one hundred metres away. She wasn't sure what they were saying, but Molly was clever enough to know that they had realised she was gone. And the angry voices seemed to be getting closer. Gasping, Molly glanced over her shoulder and was met with the fierce stare of a man through his balaclava, nervously eyeing his gun as she ran.

'GET BACK HERE YOU STUPID BITCH!' He shouted, but she kept running. Her head was dizzy and her vision was cloudy. She couldn't run for much longer.

Then, above the shouts, she heard gunfire - but it was coming from too far away to be from the man behind her, and she wondered why the volume of the shouting had more than doubled in her ringing ears. It sounded like the men in the compound were shooting at something – or somebody – and she was certain that it wasn't her.

So she kept running for all that she was worth, but she could feel her knees getting ever closer to the rough terrain as her pace and limited energy abandoned her body. She was aware of the blood dripping from her various open wounds onto the ground, and everything was getting brighter by the second.

It all went into slow motion when she heard the bang of the gun. Suddenly, her back was on fire and she fell in agony, just metres from the small stream that marked the end of the compound's boundaries. Everything went black.

* * *

 _Before I met him, I didn't see myself going nowhere. I ain't really cared if I lived or died. Now I feel like I gotta live. You understand what I'm saying?_

* * *

But then it was bright.

Because, before her, she could see everything that her and Charles had been – and everything they could've been. She smiled at the sight of Charles holding the hand of a little girl with long, brown hair as they made their way home from school, with Charles proudly carrying her pink Disney princess schoolbag on his broad shoulder. She felt warmth rise in her chest at the sight of her husband letting what appeared to be their son – a boy with big, chocolate brown eyes like his father's – win a game of football in their back garden, and she proudly clapped as he scored the winning goal while his father lifted him up and spun him around excitedly, with matching grins on their faces. More simply, she laughed at seeing her and Charles walking through the countryside with a puppy. Trees always had given her the willies. She no longer felt cold and numb.

It all felt so real, and her restless soul was immediately put at ease by the soft murmurs of her name on the corner of her mind, in a voice that sounded so much like Charles it felt like he was right there beside her; holding her. He really was going to be the last thing she'd ever see, and for some reason it didn't hurt the way she had imagined...

If this was Heaven, Molly wanted to stay here forever; because here they were locked in the happiness and love they had shared and could have shared again.

* * *

 _He bathes me… until I forget their names… and faces_

* * *

'Elvis, have you got eyes on the primary?' Kinders' concerned voice came through the headset. He had breached the walls of the compound five minutes before and the sections were on standby.

Charles felt like he was going to be sick with every minute that passed in which they hadn't received confirmation of Molly's location.

'SHE WAS HERE!' Elvis shouted through his mic as he eyed up the cell. 'There's still water in here… at the earliest she was moved today.'

'Dangles and Brains, do you have eyes on any of the suspects?' Major James said quietly into his mic as he watched the two soldiers on the roof. They raised their heads in acknowledgement and said the compound seemed empty.

And then Zemaray's men came out of the compound and began to shoot.

'GO! GO! GO!' Kinders yelled and the platoon immediately emerged from their positions. 'FIRE!'

Over ten minutes had passed and it seemed tha the gunfire was only intensifying, despite the number of casualties they had inflicted on the enemy.

'There's no sign of Zemaray, boss.' Monk came through the headset from his position inside the compound. Just as Kinders was about to say he must've fled, a running figure caught Charles' attention out of the corner of his eye.

'Fingers and Mansfield, with me!' Major James immediately followed the man in a sprint and watched in confusion at the fact he was aiming his rifle – but not in the direction of any of the British forces. His confusion then changed to horror when he fired a shot, but at who Charles couldn't make out. 'HAS ANYONE GOT EYES ON THE FIGURE HEADING TOWARDS THE STREAM?' He shouted.

It all happened so slowly.

The man turned around and eyeballed Charles. Raising his rifle, Charles was about to raise his own when he heard a shot ring out from behind him and watched the man fall backwards.

When he reached the body, he realised that there was too much blood on the ground for it all to belong to the fallen insurgent. And then he saw her.

Molly.

His Molly.

The deathly pale figure of his wife was lying about fifteen metres ahead of the man on the sandy bank of the stream, wearing only a brown vest top and her bloodied combats. She was losing a lot of blood and was unconscious.

Before he knew it, he was kneeling beside her and took her fragile body in his arms, making sure to hold her gently and not cause her any more pain as he checked for a pulse.

It was dangerously weak but it was there, right under his fingers.

He didn't realise he had started crying, but his vision was becoming uncharacteristically blurry as he wept and pulled her thin body close to his chest, covering her head and hair with soft kisses. Nothing could have made him let go. He was going to protect her now.

'I'm so sorry, Molly… I'm so sorry,' He murmured over and over again, not having the strength to shout for help and praying that Fingers and Mansfield had called for backup. 'You're going to be okay, Molls, I promise you. We're going to get you out of here, yeah? And it'll all be okay. Come on Dawes, don't do this to me… I'm so sorry…'

* * *

 **Guess who survived their A Levels?**

 **I can't believe it has been this long and I am genuinely so truly, truly sorry. I underestimated just how hard A Levels would be - I guess I didn't believe people when they said they were the hardest thing they had ever done until I was sat crying my eyes out the night before I had 2 exams on the same day. That, as well as general life getting in the way (I won't bore you with the details, but it is all okay now - my granny and dad just got out of hospital and my computer is finally fixed!) meant that I didn't have time to finish this, and this was been a work in progress since February.**

 **I am so sorry I haven't been online at all. I was too embarrassed to read any of your messages because, as I'm sure many of you can relate, I felt like such a failure for not meeting my own personal deadlines and expectations for this. But I do appreciate them so much, and I will be answering them ALL tomorrow. I'm sorry for being so rude when you all care so much, I just want to get this posted to prove how terribly sorry I am for being so useless as a writer, and I'm sorry that this chapter turned into more of an 'A Christmas Carol' fanfic than the way I had pictured it in my head. This was the chapter I was most excited for, and I don't think I did it justice... but I want to continue this story.**

 **I want this story, and this chapter in particular, to be one of hope, and in these dark times (both in my fanfic world and in real life) I hope it provides you with even two minutes of the belief that things can, and will, be better in time. In this chapter I place emphasis on the line 'Am I talking about your husband or your father?' because I want to prove that, while Molly believes Charles to be just like Dave in that he let her down so painfully, he is nothing like him, and Molly is nothing like her mother. Charles isn't 'playing' Molly but is coming to rescue her... and I'm sorry that this is so unrealistic, but I had to make it work!**

 **I completely understand if you're all over this by now as I have been so bad at updating. But I owe it to you to finish it. So whether or not this gets reviews or is read by anyone, it will be finished because I want to show you how sorry I am.**

 **Thank you for all of your support on this story. I do not deserve such lovely reviews and messages, both about this story and generally asking how I am. I'm sorry I have not replied and I understand if you have lost faith in me but I am back now and I am going to make it up to you all, I promise! Thank you for everything and, if you can forgive me, please leave a review. I love you all more than you will ever know.**

 **Thank you for everything! I love you always.**

 **Love, Sarah xxx**

 **P.S. I'll see you later in the week for the next chapter - I've started it already :)**


	9. Reformation

**REFORMATION**

* * *

 _I ask him to look me in the eye as I come... home_

* * *

"WE NEED A MEDEVAC NOW! THE PRIMARY HAS SUSTAINED EXTENSIVE INJURIES!" Fingers yelled down the radio as he caught sight of the limp figure in his boss' arms. His feet seemed to be carrying him across the compound's grounds without any conscious effort of his own, as he felt the blood drain from his head when he realised who Charles was holding. The gunfire behind them was showing no sign of letting up. The war raged on.

Mansfield followed closely behind carrying his rifle. "Boss, we need to move Molly now. We're too exposed here."

His voice didn't even appear to register with the Major, who continued to rock his wife's body gently as he murmured 'I'm so sorry' over and over.

"BOSS!" Fingers yelled louder, ducking as an insurgent came into view near the very compound they were there to attack.

"I'm such a bloody idiot. How did I get it so wrong?" Charles could feel a tear running down his face and watched intently as it fell onto the deathly-white chest in his arms. His own uniform was becoming soaked in his wife's blood.

The insurgent Fingers had spotted collapsed dramatically on the steps of the compound as Kinders came running over, followed closely by another soldier.

"Is it safe to move her?" The female voice shouted above the chaos and it was only then that the defeated caricature of Charles acknowledged the people around him. Looking up, he fixed his blurry vision on the medic in front of him.

"Don't you fucking touch her, Private!" He snarled. Lauren swallowed uncomfortably and looked pleadingly at Kinders.

It was hard to miss the urgency in the Captain's voice, and if the circumstances had been different Kinders would have personally written himself up on a charge for speaking to his superior so impatiently.

"James, come on! We need to get her out of here NOW!"

"The Medevac is three minutes out, sir!" Fingers repeated the information he had received from his headset.

"She is not touching my wife, Kinders! Do you know what the fuck her and her little friend did? Do you know?!" Charles was on the verge of becoming hysterical with anger and emotion as he protectively sheltered Molly from the war around them. He had failed to protect her before, and he couldn't let her down now. She needed him.

"Hi Molly, my name is Lauren. You remember me from the med tent, yeah? I just need to get you all ready for the helicopter, can you hear me?" Lauren crouched down to check her breathing, then moved urgently to assess Molly's injuries at the faint pulse. She felt sick at the amount of blood there was surrounding her and on her body, both old and new. When she reached out to examine the gunshot wound on her back she was stopped by the Major moving his wife closer to him.

"With all due respect, sir, your wife is bleeding out to death on a fucking battlefield with a serious gunshot wound on her back with no exit wound. Just let me do my job!" She hissed, becoming frustrated at the way the Major was treating her. She was going to kill Rachel for messing around with Major James now, especially since her dad would disown her if she got dishonourably discharged from the army.

"Come on, Charles, she's in safe hands. Come on. Let us help her... let us help you. Please." Kinders pleaded just as the sound of the Medevac could be heard coming in the distance.

Slowly, they all watched as the Major nodded and gently eased the fragile figure of his wife onto the sheet Lauren had put on the ground to prevent any more dirt from entering her various wounds. Holding out his hand, Fingers tried not to gasp as the boss put his shaking hand in his and raised himself to the ground, standing protectively over his Molly as he had always vowed to do. In sickness and in health.

* * *

 _Why do you deny yourself Heaven?_

* * *

 **4:44am.** Charles glanced at his bloodstained watch on his wrist, a gift from his wife for Christmas, and tried to make himself comfortable on the plastic hospital chair, grimacing as his muscles protested and began to make their exhaustion known.

He had not left Molly's side since they had found her, and would be the first to admit he had acted like the miserable sod he was when any of the sympathetic nurses tried to get him to at least go and get a coffee. He had simply barked at them before moving his gaze back to the unconscious frame of his wife. His Molly.

She almost looked peaceful lying in her hospital gown on the white bed-sheets, with her long brown hair splattered lazily all over the pillow. The nurses, to their credit, had tidied her up as best they could by wiping away a lot of the blood on her face and removing as much of the dried blood in her hair as possible.

He ran his eyes gently over her bruised and battered face with small rows of stitches on her cheeks and above her eyebrows, swallowing as he noticed substantial purple bruises on her neck which resembled a hand choking her around her throat. That was a pattern evident all over her tiny frame, and it did not escape Charles' attention just how thin and pale she was. He could feel his stomach drop.

 _How the fuck had he got it so wrong?_

Charles was good at his job; Christ, he was a bloody Major for God's sake. How had he not realised what the intelligence had meant? A cell was planning an attack and was particularly concerned with a female soldier in Camp Palisade, and his stupid brain had assumed that Rachel's cover had been blown and they were after her. He could almost laugh at the darkness of the situation.

Of course it hadn't been Rachel. For all her flaws, Private Stone was bloody good at her job and there was no way she would have been compromised. They were too careful. So why hadn't he realised they wanted Molly?

He already knew the answer to that. He'd been too busy single-handedly fucking up his marriage to stay focused, get the job done and go home to enjoy being a newlywed with the love of his life.

Why had he let the situation with Rachel develop into this? Yes, she was aesthetically good looking, and it was obvious she had a silly little crush on him, but he wasn't interested. He never had been. So why did he not put her in her place and put a stop to the stupid fantasy in her head that she had been spreading around the camp?

Because his pride had been too strong, and he had reverted back into being a stern-faced arsehole who refused to defy army regulations and become emotionally involved in any aspect of this tour and anyone on this tour - even his wife. It was his only defence.

Christ.

What if she didn't want him when she woke up?

He hadn't been there for her before, so why would she expect him to be there for her now? He had failed to protect her, and the very thought of what they had done to her, himself included, made him feel indescribably sick when he looked at the bruises, burns and cuts on her body.

Feeling the bile rise in his throat, Charles lunged himself over to the small bin in the corner of the private room and emptied what little contents he had in his stomach into it, somewhat enjoying the burning sensation that the violent wretching was causing as he deserved it. He was the one who deserved to be punished for being such a fuck-up; not her. Never, ever Molly.

* * *

 _Why do you consider yourself undeserving?_

* * *

Resting his clammy forehead against the cold basin of the sink, Charles slowly raised his shaking body into a sitting position and looked up the still body of his wife that was softly illuminated by the moonlight coming through the thin hospital blinds.

"Charlie." Elvis' voice broke through the darkness of the room, causing Charles to flinch, having not even heard him come in. He didn't move his eyes from Molly.

His best friend sat down on the cold hospital floor beside him, fidgeting with a lose thread on his sleeve. Elvis was never that good at emotion, which probably explained why he had managed to sabotage the one real thing in his life. He was still dressed in his combat clothes from the mission, having just landed at Bastion after the mission debrief at Camp Palisade.

"How's she doing?"

"She's..." Charles cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, blinking his eyes furiously to try and stop his stern face from breaking. He gave up and shrugged helplessly, knowing that his voice would crack if he said it out loud.

The gentle beeps of the various machines around Molly were somewhat comforting to Elvis, and their steady rhythm pounded in his head as he fought the mental haze to fill the silence.

"The nurse out there told me they had to resuscitate her three times on the way here. I'm so sorry, Charlie. If we'd found her earlier, maybe it wouldn't have all gone so pete tong." His friend simply nodded, still yet to make eye contact with the man he reluctantly at times called his best friend.

Charles moved his head and looked Elvis straight in the eye for the first time since he arrived, "it's not your fault, Elvis." He shook his head dismissively before returning his gaze to the single bed in front of him. They fell into silence again for what felt like an hour, but in reality was only a couple of minutes. Elvis knew that Charlie would speak when he was ready.

"I really fucked up, Elvis. I let her down." The words were released into the darkness before it had even registered with Charles that he was the one who said them.

"Charles, there was nothing we could've done differently. We didn't know what the situation was gonna be when we arrived... it was meant to be a simple retrieval of the primary-"

"I'm not talking about your bloody mission!" He spat impatiently, before looking back at Elvis apologetically for the harshness that had taken even him by surprise. The desperation on his face was breaking his friend's heart, and he watched as Charles pulled at the curls on the back of his neck - a nervous habit he had teased him about since they had met when they were eighteen. "Since Molly arrived in Iraq, things haven't been good between us. I really hurt her, Elvis."

"Mate, relax, you having a fight with the missus didn't cause _this_. You're smarter than that."

"She thinks I had an affair."

Elvis began to laugh at the bollocks coming out of Charles' move before the pained look his friend forced him to stop abruptly. "You didn't, did you?" He didn't even realise Elvis had spoke, instead letting everything come out of his mouth methodically.

"I let her down, Elvis. Every fucking day. I could see it in her eyes every time I saw her around base. She was so sad..." his voice broke, causing him to lower his head towards his bent knees. Clearing his throat, he continued on. "By some miracle, I was lucky enough to have her bloody worship me. She loved me so much, Elvis. How could I do that?"

"Do what, Charles?" Elvis was nervous at what his friend was going to say. It was him that fucked up relationships, not the broken man sitting beside him.

"I thought the best thing to do was to deal with it all whenever we got home, so I led her to believe that I didn't love her... that I didn't _want_ her. And she believed me. For some bloody reason she believed me."

"She knows you adore her, Charles. It was just a stupid argument, I'm sure she knows-"

Charles shook his head adamantly. "The last time I saw her we... Jesus, Elvis, what am I supposed to do? If she doesn't wake up and I don't get to apologise, to make everything right in her world... why do I always put the army first? I'm never going to treat her right. What if she doesn't want me, even if she does wake up?"

The tears that were forming once again in his friend's eyes were not missed by Elvis. "She wouldn't have tried to escape if she didn't think you'd be waiting on her."

Elvis rolled his eyes dramatically when Charles turned to look at him, his eyes narrowing in confusion. For someone so smart he really was quite stupid sometimes, Elvis thought. "What? How can you possibly know she was trying to escape?"

"When we cleared the compound after you left in the helicopter, I had a snoop around to see what evidence they were gonna come in and collect. The things in there Charlie... if she didn't want to come back to you, she could have given up. Easily. But she kept fighting."

Charles shook his head, trying to ignore Elvis' attempts at interpreting a situation he had little understanding of. "You don't know that."

"Trust me. It's time you fight for her now." Elvis stiffled a chuckle at the fact he was now the one giving Charles relationship advice, knowing that in a few months time they'd both laugh at it together over a nice cold beer in his and Molly's new back garden.

Not really knowing the right words to comfort him, Elvis placed his hand gently on his shoulder. "Come on mate, let's get you cleaned up. Molly's not gonna wanna see you like that, is she?" He looked at the bloodstained combats Charles was still wearing.

"I need to be here!" The sun was beginning to come outside, making Molly's pale face glow in an orange hue.

"She's in a medically induced coma, Charlie. She not going to wake up in the hour it'll take for you to get showered and get some scoff." He tried to smile.

Charles knew he was right as he ran his fingers over the stubble forming on his unshaven chin. Sighing, he got up slowly and walked over to the bed before leaning down and pressing a tender kiss against Molly's forehead. "I'll be back soon, my love. Hang in there."

Walking out of the door in a daze with Elvis' arm around his shoulder, he missed the nurse stick her thumb up at Elvis and mouth 'thank you'.

* * *

 _Why are you afraid of love? You think it's not possible for someone like you..._

* * *

"You should talk to her, y'know." The ginger nurse smile reassuringly at the Major as he stared at his wife. Her years of experience caused her to recognise the guilt and longing on his handsome but tired face, evidently thinking through everything that had happened. From what she had heard, the mission had been a tough one.

"Sorry?" He looked up.

"Your wife, you should talk to her. Studies suggest that coma victims can hear our voices." She could tell the man in front of her was uncertain, and flashed a smile at him again before heading to the door. "The brain scans we have done are very positive, sir. There's activity in there. I'll leave you to it. Try it, trust me." Charles nodded his head subtly then turned his attention back to his wife, who had been in the coma now for three days.

Three days he had spent sitting loyally and dutifully at her bedside, waiting for just any sign that Molly was waking up; three days he had spent torturing himself. He was desperate.

Taking her soft small hand in his once again, just as he had anytime before when he had needed comfort, Charles watched his own engulf hers and chuckled quietly at the memories of how often Molly teased him for being what she called a 'bleeding giant'.

"Hey, you." He smiled quietly, intertwining their fingers in the early morning light. "I know I always tell you to get your bloody arse out of bed in the mornings, but this time I'd really appreciate it if you did, Molls." He watched as her chest rose up and down rhythmically under the regulation duvet he had tucked her up in the night before.

"I really need you to wake up, Dawes. You're a fighter through and through, and I know you're tired, sweetheart, but can you do it one more time, just for me? I don't mind if you want to offer me up yourself to the bloody Taliban when you do, I just want you to open your eyes... please." His voice cracked. Steadying himself, he looked down at his boots as he felt a lonesome tear travel down his cheek.

"When you wake up, I promise to make you the happiest woman alive. We can do whatever the hell you want. Remember the dreams we had of starting a family of our own? I'll even let you name our children any ludicrous name you like. Think of everything you have to live for, my love; everything you have to fight for. I know I'm a dickhead and I owe you the biggest bloody apology, but please don't leave me, not like this. I need to make it right." More tears were falling now, only heightened by the fact Molly was completely oblivious to what was going on. He just hoped she wasn't in pain wherever she was mentally in there.

"I love you so much, Molly. Come back to me." He whispered, raising their intertwined hands up to his mouth and softly planting a kiss onto her scraped knuckles.

Gently, he placed their hands back down again onto the bed and he closed his eyes sleepily, rubbing his thumb over the cuts on her knuckles as he did so. Then he felt it.

Just like her pulse had been when he had found her, it was barely there; faint even...

But it was there.

For a second, Charles had felt Molly's hand contract very, very gently in his own.

He was certain that her fingers had twitched; that his wasn't delirious and imagining it in his sleep-deprived state.

She had squeezed his hand.

There was still hope.

* * *

 ** _...But you are the love of my life._**

* * *

 **I know I'm like a broken record, but I am truly so, so sorry. Real life happens sometimes, and I cannot tell you how often I think about this story. This chapter has been a work in progress for months!**

 **Thank you so much for all of your lovely messages and reviews, asking me where I am or even just how I am. All is good in my world! I FINALLY passed by driving test (technically I should've failed for hitting the curb, but I like to think I'm as lovable as our Molly ;) ) and I got my A Level results, meaning I can now drive myself to uni for the three days a week I'm in lol - talk about character development ;) hahah**

 **I am so sorry for leaving it this long, and I want you to genuinely know that. Thank you so much for everything, I love all of you dearly. Please don't give up on me. I hope you're all well and I'll see you soon! (hopefully this week, if I ever get the motivation to finish my coursework over half term lol) It's a lot to ask considering how bad I am at updating, but please leave a review to let me know you're all still here. However, if you aren't, I completely understand.**

 **All my love ALWAYS,**

 **Sarah xxxx**

 **P.S. How are you all finding Series 3? I'm still waiting on the Molly references that Ben promised us... :(**

 **ALSO, how incredible are the stories on here at the minute?! I'm obsessed!**


	10. Love Drought

**LOVE DROUGHT**

* * *

 _Are you aware that you're my lifeline? Are you tryna kill me?_

* * *

"Christ, Fingers, what the bloody hell is that shit?" Two Section watched as Charles planted himself down on one of the makeshift deck chairs where they were resting while One and Three Section took their turn to play volleyball in the scorching Afghanistan heat. Even though they had vacated Camp Palisade for the relative safety of Camp Bastion four days ago, it was the first time they had laid eyes on the Bossman since Molly had been rescued.

He definitely looked a lot better from when they had last saw him. The dark circles around his eyes, although still very visible, were not so violent looking anymore, and the bronze tan he had achieved during their time in Iraq was slowly creeping its way back into his hollow and weary face, temporarily easing the deep lines that had formed on his forehead in recent weeks. Kinders watched him carefully.

"Just felt it was right to play some of the King, Boss, since we was back in Afghan and all that." Fingers grabbed Brains' black Ray-Bans off his face and chucked them at the Major, grinning mischievously as he turned the portable speaker up. It was good to see the Boss.

Kinders could tell that Charles was trying his best to appear relaxed by putting on the sunglasses and idly drawing pictures in the sand with his finger, but that he felt anything but. He had most likely been chucked out of Molly's room for a bit and was trying to fill the time.

 _I loved your point of view 'cause you held no punches, but still I left you for months on end; it's been months since I checked back in…_

Charles half-heartedly rolled his eyes and trying his best to block out the lyrics, "I don't recall Elvis' catalogue containing much rap music, Fingers."

"Someone put the posh sod out of his misery and tell him it's Jay-Z! While you was singing your Elton shit during basic, we had to survive somehow!" Mansfield moaned as he turned over onto his front to let the sun hit his fair skin.

"Lovely." Charles nodded and closed his eyes, leaning back into the chair and trying to enjoy the feeling of the rays tanning his battered skin. For a brief moment, it felt like the cloud of their reality had dissipated and was replaced with total stillness as the group sat in a peaceful silence. Suddenly, he felt himself tense up as his thoughts returned. _Molly should be sitting here too_.

"Me mam always said I would be next the Jay-Z." Nude Nut announced proudly.

"Was that before or after she realised you couldn't even count?" Mansfield bear hugged his friend and rubbed his bald head, much to the delight of Fingers who cheered them on.

This moment of normality, of nostalgia, was broken by the shouts of Three Section as Elf from One Section scored a point for his team. Captain Kinders excused himself and ran over to the game blowing his whistle in an attempt to calm the boys down.

Nude Nut regained his composure and splashed some of his water down himself to cool off. "I'm not even shittin' yous, even our Molls agreed back in Afghan that I had serious skills! She always loved this one when I'd sing it on patrol!"

The gentle banter that had been building up slowly amongst the boys again came crashing down at the mention of the _'M word'_ , a name that none of them had even dared to breathe since that day. Suddenly, the boys all looked down and avoided even glancing at the Major sitting beside them. As the uncomfortable silence fell, Charles felt the deep ache of his stomach wound rise up at the mention of Molly – _his_ Molly. It had been happening a lot lately. Trying to mask the pain he felt, Charles focused on the music to steady his breathing.

 _I can understand why you want a divorce now though I can't let you know it 'cause pride won't let me show it. I pretend to be heroic… but deep inside a man is so sick._

Charles winced at the poignancy of the lyrics, thankful for the sunglasses he had on. This had really turned fucking awkward, and he was trying to calculate how long it would be until he could leave them without looking weak.

"Don't stop on my account, lads. It's okay." He smiled sadly, lifting his face back up to the sun in a feigned attempt at ignorance.

They all refocused their attentions on the volleyball game, taking particular interest at the flustered look on Kinders' face as he tried to referee a sport he clearly had very little knowledge of, as he had demonstrated one more than one occasion. Even Charles was finding it humorous.

"Nice one, you fucking div!" Brains whispered to Nude Nut, unaware of the fact that the Boss could hear him. He also didn't miss the playful blow to Nude Nut's stomach.

"I was only sayin'-" Charles laughed quietly and felt himself relax at the familiar banter of Two Section, realising that he was no longer the subject of their interest. Glancing at his watch, he was relieved to find that he only had ten minutes left of the fifteen the nice ginger nurse had suggested he leave the room for in order to get some air while they cleaned Molly's wounds.

 _They say you can't turn a bad girl good but once a good girl's gone bad, she's gone forever. I'll mourn forever. Shit, I've got to live with the fact I did you wrong forever. I can't see 'em coming down my eyes so I got to make the song cry, but I know I see 'em coming down your eyes._

Swallowing, Charles settled himself into the chair. It was going to be a long ten minutes.

* * *

 _You and me could move a mountain. You and me could calm a war down_

* * *

Galloping up the stairs two at a time, Charles could feel his pulse racing as he ran. The unfamiliar sound of silence in their house had filled him with a panic he couldn't quite describe as his head became clouded with fear. Every single room downstairs was empty.

Sprinting along the long hallway, he bashed their bedroom door open and cast a quick glance of the room before running out and heading towards the nursery. Finding the door already open, he walked cautiously into the baby-pink room as he held his breath and fell to his knees in tears as he realised what had happened. They were both gone. _Molly had left him_.

Somewhere in his consciousness, Charles could remember the lyrics of one of those God-awful Jay-Z songs that Fingers had continued to play while they watched the volleyball game.

 _'Fuck joint custody, just the thought fucks with me. Apologies in order to my daughter, if it was up to me, you would be with me.'_

Rising up slowly from his shaking knees, Charles grabbed onto the white wood of their daughter's cot to steady himself. Breathing deeply in an effort to control the pain that was making itself known from his old war wounds, he let go of the cot and moved backwards slowly away from it.

Opening his eyes again, he ran towards the cot and kicked it with such force that his being groaned for all its worth with the sheer agony the contact had created. Sobbing, Charles threw himself down to lie amongst the shattered wood, screaming his wife's name as he did so.

 _"Charles!"_ His body ached as Molly's voice haunted him. She was taunting him, over and over, and it was only getting louder.

"Charles!" It called again, causing Charles to wipe the sweat that was running down his face with the back of his hand in disbelief. It sounded so real.

 _"Charles!"_ Her voice was fading away, and he begged and begged her to come back. She was getting quieter

 _"Molly, please, don't leave me, come back…"_ He screamed through his tears. The voice had stopped, and she was gone.

Suddenly, the bright lights of the nursery were replaced with the darkness of Molly's hospital room. Opening his eyes slowly, it took Charles a few moments to calm himself down and to figure out where he was. With his forehead resting of the side of the bed and his eyes facing the floor, he steadied his breathing by listening to the quiet hums and beeps of the machines in the room. _It was just a dream_.

 _"Charlie?"_ He thought his mind was playing tricks on him again at first, as the quiet but concerned voice he could hear sounded identical to the one in his dream. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, Charles lifted his head slowly from the edge of the bed as he felt someone's fingers run through his curls with the faintest of touches. Raising his hand into his hair to investigate what was touching him, he felt her fingers.

Looking up at the pillow, Charles' gaze was met with the most incredible green eyes he had fallen in love with all those years ago. Looking at him warily, as if checking he was actually real, he felt his face break into the biggest of grins as his wife smiled slowly back at him. He raised the tiny hand that had been in his hair to his mouth and kissed her knuckles lightly.

"Hey, you." He whispered.

* * *

 _Ten times out of nine I know you're lying, but nine times out of ten I know you're trying so I'm trying to be fair, and you're trying to be there and to care. But you're caught up in your permanent emotions, all the loving I've been giving goes unnoticed, it's just floating in the air; lookie there_

* * *

"Oh my God. Molly, I thought… I was so scared you wouldn't – oh my God." Charles felt the tears run freely down his face as he took in the sight in front of him. Wincing with the pain, Molly raised her hand to his cheek and tried to wipe away his tears, and smiling when he leant into her touch. She could count the amount of times she had seen him cry in the time she had known him on one hand.

"Shh, it's okay." She whispered hoarsely, feeling the tears run down her own face and onto the thin duvet. They stayed like that for a while, neither quite believing that this moment had finally arrived… that they had been given a second chance.

"What happened, Charlie? Where am I?" Molly broke the silence, curious as to how she had come to be in what appeared to be a hospital.

"You don't remember?" He eyed her cautiously, trying to judge whether or not she was strong enough yet to know the full story of what had happened to her, or how much she remembered. He helped her to drink out of the sippy-cup the nurses had left for her, chuckling softly as she visibly delighted in the taste of the cold water.

She nodded. "I mean how did I get here?" Her throat ached with every word she forced it to say.

Charles cleared his throat. "We tracked down where you were being held. Special Forces were involved... Christ, Molly, when we found you… I thought we were too late. I thought I was too late." Feeling his voice break at the use of 'I', he looked down to stop the tears from falling down his face once again. Taking her hand back in his, he studied with amazement the fact they were safe. She was safe. "But then, when they stabilised you... the beeping of those bloody machines was the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. Because your heart beating meant that you had come back to me." He smiled a watery smile, feeling unashamed for once that she was seeing him so vulnerable.

Trying to lighten the mood since she couldn't fully hold him in her arms, Molly joked, "I bet you had a Julius Caesar when Elvis strutted his way into camp."

"Something like that." He snorted. When their eyes met, he couldn't help but smile. They sat in a comfortable silence as the doctors and nurses came in to check on Molly and ask her questions now that she was awake.

By the time the medics had left, Molly was on the verge of falling asleep and Charles could tell that she was pushing herself not to do so.

"Charlie?" The tiredness in her voice was intensified by the morphine she had just been given.

"Mmm?"

"We're going to be okay, aren't we?" She murmured sleepily, struggling to keep her eyes open against the bright light of the room.

Surrendering to the light, Molly closed her eyes and listened intently to what sounded like a chair scraping against the floor before feeling the edge of her bed sink a bit under the weight of Charles' tall frame. "Of course we are. Get some rest, sweetheart. We can talk properly when you're feeling a bit better. I think I have some explaining to do."

Molly's medically-induced high was already evident in her smirk as she settled comfortably into her pillows, making a noise of agreement at Charles' words. Judging by the look on her face, he doubted whether she had even heard him. Nevertheless, he leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Love you." She yawned, wincing once again at the pain that shot through her broken ribs as she did so.

Choking on the sudden lump in his throat, Charles whispered back, "I love you more," smoothing her face from her bruised and battered face as he did so.

* * *

 _I don't care about the lights or the beams, I'd spend my life in the dark for the sake of you and me_

* * *

"At ease, James." Lieutenant Colonel Beck welcomed the Major into the spacious meeting room, smiling as his old friend joined them standing at the large planning table in the middle.

"Charlie boy! How's our Molls doin'?" Elvis greeted his best friend with a pat on the back, grinning widely at the sight of Charles striding to meet him. It almost felt like old times. Beck massaged his temples with the knowledge that, after many years of working with Elvis, there was no point in trying to remind him of the British Army's code of conduct or its formality.

"She's doing better." He tried his best to hide his tired voice, but his efforts did little in meeting Elvis' genuinely happy tone.

Studying the extensive maps and photographs on the white table, Charles raised his eye to meet the concerned expression on Beck's face.

Beck began, "You're probably wondering why I asked you to join us, James." Charles nodded, looking at Elvis in an attempt to figure out what was going on. "Special Forces have been working endlessly to track down Zemaray and his cell. And they've found them."

Elvis moved excitedly towards the digital terrain map that was being projected onto the wall in front of them. Grabbing the remote, he expertly made the screen zoom into a small town fifty miles west of the Iran-Afghan border. Sighing dramatically, Elvis put on his hard-done-by expression and smiled at his friend. "Not sayin' it's been easy or anything, Charlie boy, but with men of our talents it was nothing we couldn't handle." Winking at the small team he had brought with him, he continued. "After they fled the compound from which the primary was recovered, we received intelligence that suggested the men were in hiding in a small village in Iran. However, we couldn't find any evidence of this when we used a drone."

Beck watched Charles carefully as he rolled his tongue around his mouth, a characteristic trait of his when we was deep in thought as he studied the images Elvis was showing him.

"On further investigation we discovered that the cell were moving east, heading towards the Afghan border. With this knowledge, we have tracked them down to a compound less than one hundred miles from the border. They are still there, and we have them under constant surveillance." The map zoomed in on the isolated compound in question.

Crossing his arms defensively across his chest, Charles frowned. "So why haven't you gone in and captured them?"

Pausing for dramatic effect, Elvis spoke slowly. "We have reason to believe that they are planning an attack. It would be extremely dangerous for Special Forces to breech the compound on a solo basis."

Charles was taken by surprise by Kinders' voice as he hadn't even realised he was there. "That is why I have volunteered to lead the Under Fives in a supportive role alongside Special Forces." Realising that this would mean his beloved Two Section would be facing the cell for the third time in their lives, Charles closed his eyes briefly in an attempt to connect the dots.

"The ANA cannot get involved in operations in Iranian territory. Especially without formally receiving permission from the Iran government, and we don't have the time to sit and wait around for that." Beck answered the question that was forming in Charles' head. Nodding slowly, Charles fixed his stern-face on Elvis.

"We need your help, Charlie." Meeting his stern expression, Elvis put on his infamous puppy-dog eyes that he knew his friend had never been able to resist.

Surely Beck wouldn't allow this. Looking at him for back-up against what he was sure Elvis was suggesting, Beck rolled his eyes, indicating that his hands were tied. "As I'm sure you have realised, Charles, under army regulations you are prohibited from engaging in any act that runs the risk of emotional involvement." Elvis snorted at this, knowing fully-well how well Charles had tried to carry out his career influenced by the strength of army regulations and emotional involvement; after all, it had been him that he had called when he realised he had feelings for Molly when they were in Afghanistan together all those years ago, and it had been him who had told Charles to 'wise the fuck up and get his girl' or else he would personally engrave his precious army regulations onto his headstone.

Casting a warning glance at Elvis who was now standing proudly beside him, Beck continued, "But, as you also know, I have previously overruled these regulations to allow you to recover Dawes from the compound." Choosing his words carefully, as though he despised himself for going against every principle in his body, he rolled his eyes to himself and frowned. "I have to say that I do agree with this fucking dimwit on my left that you are, without a doubt, the person in the whole of this bastard camp that has the most knowledge and understanding of Zemaray, and for that reason your input on this would be invaluable. I have cleared it with the powers that be and, if you're willing, ... we need your help, Charles."

Watching Lieutenant Colonel Beck plead for his help was not something that Charles ever expected to witness in his life, and the significance of this was not lost on him as he anxiously pulled at the curls on the back of his neck.

A few days previously, Elvis had visited Beck strictly off the record to express his fears that the Major was thinking of leaving the army behind as soon as they touched down at Brize, as throughout his time in Iraq it had become extremely clear in his phone-calls and FaceTimes that his friend was struggling with being on tour and was becoming incredibly war-weary. In his own words, he was just 'tired' of it all and longed to be at home with his wife. But both men knew what an exceptional officer he was, and Beck was determined to get Charles to rediscover his love for what he did. He didn't blame him, of course, as he had come very close to losing his wife and it was obvious that he was still deeply struggling with that. However, he knew that he would personally mourn the loss of the greatest officer he had ever served with and, for that reason, he couldn't let him go. Not yet.

But the very thought of putting his brothers, the men he had fought with for years, in even more danger because of him made the bile rise from his stomach and burn his throat. He couldn't analyse the last few weeks without coming to the conclusion every single time that this tour had been a massive fuck-up from the get go all because of _him_.

He had been too busy self-destructing his marriage, and even himself to an extent, to realise how much danger Molly was in, and for that he had endangered not only her but all of Camp Palisade. What had happened to her had been his fault, and for that he would never forgive himself.

But he also knew that he would never forgive those that had done this to her with their own bare hands. And what if he couldn't stop? What if, when he saw those bastards who called themselves men, he couldn't stop? He wanted to hurt them - of course he did - but what if he went too far? He'd heard stories throughout his career of men who had fell victim to an irrational furor that was so strong they couldn't fight it; stories he had studied all his life ever since he had learned of great men who had let their own hubris cause their own downfall, men like Achilles, Turnus and even Caesar. For the first time in his life, Charles was beginning to understand what had driven Smurf to madness that day on the bridge. And he couldn't put his men in even more danger.

But even then, when he thought about these fears, he was unsure whether he was scared that the anger he feared would consume him was only misplaced guilt. Was he trying to take out his own feelings of letting Molly down by beating it out of those men in the name of revenge? in the name of justice? A natural justice he had yet to see take place in all the years he had spent in Afghanistan.

Did he have the self-control anymore to stop himself? Could he make Molly proud of him again?

He had to show Molly that he could make everything right in her world once again. That he could be the husband he had vowed to be.

He had to try.

"Okay." Charles nodded as he expanded the gap between his legs and crossed his arms once again over his broad chest.

The old Charles was slowly coming back.

They had to win.

He had to win.

* * *

 _Tell me, what did I do wrong? I feel like that question has been posed so I'm moving on. The only way to go is up; them old bitches so whack, I'm so tough... wassup?_

* * *

"He's a good'un, your Major." The friendly ginger nurse winked as she replaced Molly's morphine drip.

The brunette's pained expression as she tried to turn her head to face the nurse said it all about how she was feeling after her nap. Realising that it hurt too much to move, Molly made a noise of enquiry.

"Major James. He never left your side, y'know, the whole time you were in the coma. We had to practically beg him to get some air for five minutes, and even then we were fighting a losing battle. It took a tall bloke with a daft name to get him to leave eventually." The nurse giggled quietly to herself at the fond memory of the man flirting his way through the nurses station.

"That'd be Elvis then." Molly exhaled a hoarse laugh as the nurse adjusted her pillows.

"Ah yes, I remember now," she comically rolled her eyes at Molly. "I take it him and your husband are good friends then?"

It was hurting more and more to talk. Yawning, Molly nodded. "He's his best mate!"

"You underestimate yourself, Molly." The nurse's smile was met with a confused frown. "The amount of time he spent in here just sitting with you, talking to you... that's real love, Molly. I wish I was half as lucky as you are to have a man that worships you!"

The pain in her body prevented her from making any dramatic movements, but the nurse was sure she could make out a small shrug. "Things weren't that good with us before... before this. We had a big row. I was such a cow to him." Molly could feel the tears gather at the back of her eyes. She had missed him so much.

"I guessed as such. I think for the first forty-eight hours the only words that came from his mouth were, 'I'm so sorry.' He loves you Molly, really bloody loves you. And before you know it, we'll be packing you back off to England where he can look after you."

Molly felt a tear fall down her cheeks and tried to smile to cover it up. Taking her hand, the nurse wiped the tear away with her tissue and smiled. "Get some rest, Molly. And think about what I said." And with a nod, she was gone, leaving Molly to quickly surrender herself to yet another heavy sleep.

* * *

 _You and me could make it rain now. You and me could stop this love drought._

* * *

Molly's eyes burned against the bright light coming through her open door. She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep for as she had been sleeping on and off all day, and the morphine had kept the dreams that she knew would eventually come away, but judging by the soft glow of the nightlight on the wall beside her it was definitely nighttime. It wasn't until she looked up that she realised why her room had felt so bright for a brief moment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Charles' sleepy voice came from in front of the now-closed door. "Were you sleeping?"

It wasn't until she remembered that the room was black that she realised her husband most likely couldn't see her faint shake of the head, but it was enough effort to say, or rather croak out, what she wanted to. "What time is it?"

"It's just after 0100 hours. Sorry, Beck asked to see me and it ran over." She watched him in the faint light as he took off his watch and placed it on the arm of the chair before he slid off his combat jacket. He watched this time as she nodded and looked at him with uncertainty. "What is it?"

His tired eyes stared back at her, and it was only now that she could really see him. _Her_ Charlie. He was definitely thinner than she remember, and his face was less filled out than it had been. He also looked older, and she longed to run her fingers over the deep worry-lines that had emerged on his beautiful, but pale, face over the last few weeks. Even the way he stood and carried himself was different - it was as though he was less sure of himself, less confident - something she never imagined her husband would be. He looked like a broken man who just needed a hug. She knew he was sorry.

"Will you lie with me, Charlie?" He could just about make out the small movement of her head towards the small empty space beside her on the tiny single bed. Smiling, he untied his boots and sat himself down beside her gently, careful not to disturb any of the tubes or wires around her.

"Of course." Moving her gently so that his chest was slightly behind her, he lay down beside his wife and took her in his arms. Wrapping one of his arms across her shoulders, he moved in and gently planted a kiss onto her temple before moving back and closing his eyes, waiting for a much-needed sleep to come. In response, Molly used the little energy she had and draped her thin arm across his chest, planting a small kiss on it as she did so.

She didn't need to speak. The small act of affection was enough for him.

They would be okay. Charles would make sure of it.

* * *

 **Hi guys! 🙈**

 **I genuinely am incredibly sorry that this has taken me so long once again. I won't bore you with any excuses because I know you're all tired of hearing them, but it turns out that university is a lot harder than I thought! Nevertheless, semester one and exams/deadlines/assignments are now over and I'm slowly beginning to feel like myself again lol! I can't thank you enough for all your lovely reviews and private messages asking where I am. I'm afraid that sometimes I get so embarrassed about the lack of updates that I procrastinate doing so because I'm the Queen of bad updates hahah, but your words of kindness and encouragement light up my darkest hours and I love each and every one of you.**

 **As I've said before, this story will definitely be finished and it's definitely now a matter of soon rather than later. I'm going to make more of an effort to post regular updates as I now have a general idea of what my uni timetable/lifestyle will be like now that I've completed the first semester. Thank you for not giving up on me yet, if it wasn't your support I would have given up on this story, and probably myself, many moons ago.**

 **Speaking of droughts, how are you all coping without Our Girl? I throughly recommend 'Derry Girls' on channel 4 - it's great to see my wee country on TV for a positive reason ;) hahah**

 **Until next time (which will hopefully be later in the week as I am off after my exams!),**

 **Love always,**

 **Sarah Xxx**

 **P.S.** **I also hope that you all had an amazing Christmas and a Happy New Year! Here's to a fan-fic-filled year in 2018 ;) xxx**

 **Also, please leave a review to let me know if you're still here, it would mean the world to me :) 💛**

 **DISCLAIMER: the Jay-Z songs (I thought they were only appropriate given that this is based on 'Lemonade') mentioned are 'Song Cry' (my personal fave!) and 'Jay Z Blue', if you're interested x**


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